Whips And Chains
by Pyjamas
Summary: In an attempt to cheer himself up on his birthday, Taichi visits a strip club and unwittingly falls for the stripper. What's he going to do when he realises that he knew this stripper in the past, and they hated each other? [Taisuke]
1. Prologue: Red

**Title: **Whips and Chains  
**Chapter title: **Red  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **Yes, I know I shouldn't start _another_ fic, but I just couldn't help myself.This is entirely Kirstie's fault for 'giving me naughty ideas'. So yeah, my first attempt at Taisuke…well, technically speaking, I think this'll turn out to be Daichi. I do quite like the idea of Dais being the more dominant one in their relationship. And, um…without further ado, enjoy.

* * *

It was the semi-final football match, and the score was tied. Left, right and centre there were children running, pulling up clumps of grass with their studded football boots and screaming messages across the turf to their team mates. Proud parents stood at the sidelines, some holding up homemade banners supporting their offspring and others were simply opting to offer encouraging cheers. They watched as their sons and daughters raced each other in pursuit of the ball; the children were really putting their hearts into the game that they obviously loved.

There was nothing quite so exhilarating, at least to Daisuke Motomiya, than chasing a black and white ball around a field.

He was only six years old, but already he had found his passion. Discovering it had been an accident, and after he'd played his first game he had never looked back. His parents had signed him up to this team, ranging in age between six and nine years old, and he was one of the best. He loved it and wanted nothing more than to keep playing forever.

Another boy, of equal ability and enthusiasm, stood at the top end of the age group. At nine years old, Taichi Yagami often found himself leading his team and gaining them one victory after another. He did his coach proud, and it was clear to all that football was his calling; it was like he became a completely different child when he set foot on the field.

However, this passion for the sport was the only thing these two boys had in common, apart from their hatred of each other.

"Taichi!" One of the other boys on their team shouted. "I'm open!"

Taichi ignored him; he was so close to scoring again, he couldn't pass now. He dribbled the ball closer, making the evasion of tackles from the other team look effortless, preparing to shoot. But no sooner had he drawn his foot back than Daisuke's body had collided with his, disrupting his balance and knocking both of them to the floor.

The referee blew a whistle. Roughly and with a face like thunder, the brunette shoved the redhead away from him and stood up, fisting his hands at his sides. "What are you doing? I was gonna score!"

Daisuke stood up also and glared defiantly, unfazed by the other boy's superiority in age. "You weren't passing!"

"I don't have to pass!"

"You never pass though!"

This time it was Taichi who approached, and pushed the younger boy by the shoulders to the ground. The referee wasted no time in rushing over, blowing his whistle again and catching Daisuke before he could return the violent gesture. They had the full attention of the other players as they were led away to sit on the sidelines, but this attention rapidly diminished as game play resumed and the two of them were forced to focus on how much they hated the other for getting them booted off the field. The game soon ended, with their team emerging the victors, and they both brightened up a little at the prospect of being able to compete in the final.

Being as young as they were, neither of them really took notice of the hopeless look on their coach's face as he neared them.

"Boys, listen," he began, folding his arms, "you do this almost every time; one or both of you gets sent off the field in nearly every match. I warned you when you fought last week that you needed to get your differences sorted out before today if you wanted to play in the final, but you haven't done it. Daisuke, you've got to stop starting fights, but Taichi, you're old enough to know better than to fight back. You guys are my star players, but you leave me with no choice. I have to disqualify both of you from this tournament."

Immediately they began to protest, but the coach held his hand up to silence them.

"I warned you both; you have nobody to blame but yourselves. I can't risk you fighting again in the final, I'm sorry."

Taichi opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but stopped when he realised that the coach wasn't going to change his mind. This made him turn instead to Daisuke, fuming. "Now look what you've done!"

The redhead was faring no better at controlling his anger. "It wasn't me! This is your fault!"

Growling, Taichi went to shove Daisuke again, and the smaller boy raised his fists, preparing to defend himself. They appeared to have forgotten that their coach was still standing before them, and he held them apart before any contact was made between them.

"You're doing it again, guys!" They stopped at the adult voice, fists still poised, and turned to him. "You've just proved that I can't trust you to behave in the final. Now, go on home; come back to practice when the tournament's over. Maybe by then you'll have learnt not to fight during matches."

At this Daisuke stood up and stormed away towards his parents, and Taichi quickly followed suit, neither of them happy.

And this was how their days went, tournament or not. There seemed to be no way for them to avoid fighting; it just happened. They rubbed each other the wrong way, and that was all there was to it. Neither of them had actually done anything to spark off the mutual dislike.

When the day of the final eventually rolled around, Daisuke spent it kicking his own football around his garden, imagining that it was Taichi's head. Taichi did the same, only picturing the redhead's face on the ball instead of his own.


	2. Pretty Boys

**Chapter title: **Pretty Boys  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **I have a question; does this need to be rated M due to there being strippers? I wasn't sure, but forgot to ask last time. Credit for TK because she helped me with some words. And when you picture the bartender, picture someone really fit. I did. It made me want to veer away from Taisuke and make Taichi date the bartender instead. But I didn't, so it's ok. Oh and, if anyone's interested, I've just discovered Ouran High School Host Club so you can expect fics from me about that in the near future. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

Taichi lay sprawled sloppily across his sofa, idly flipping through the multitude of channels on the TV. Nothing was really catching his interest, probably because he didn't really want to be watching anything. He stopped on a game show before heaving himself upright to take a swig of his beer.

In all, it had turned out to be a really crap day. He didn't quite understand; he'd always loved birthdays as a child and when he was growing up. It just didn't seem to be the same now that he was older and out living on his own.

This was supposed to have been a special birthday, too – his 21st. He was now allowed to do, within reason, whatever he wanted. He could buy alcohol (which had been the first privilege he had taken advantage of, hence his beer) and he could get into the establishments that only allowed people over a certain age to enter, to name a couple of the advantages. It was the day on which he could finally call himself a proper adult.

If only the rest of the world would see it the same way, he thought. Nobody had seemed particularly bothered that it was his special day. Taichi thought about this with a particular culprit in mind; it had been only yesterday when his gorgeous, blonde boyfriend had turned up at his door and stated that their relationship was simply not working.

It wasn't fair. Taichi really did love Yamato, and he'd thought everything was fine. They'd supported each other when they needed it, like when Taichi's parents told him to move out because they couldn't afford to keep him, and endured the horrors that life had to offer them together. The homophobic abuse, for one.

Obviously, Yamato didn't feel the tight bond that Taichi thought they shared.

The argument that followed the blonde's declaration had been monumental, with stinging remarks from both parties. As neither of them believed in holding back when it came to violence, Taichi's apartment had seen ripped clothes and swollen, cut lips that evening.

Needless to say, Yamato hadn't called in the morning to wish him a happy birthday, nor had he turned up with a gift.

And that was only part of the puzzle. Even though Taichi mostly blamed the blonde for his birthday being rubbish, he couldn't forget the other more minor factors.

One of these was his parents. Not that they had done anything wrong. They, unlike Yamato, had popped round for an hour during the morning to wish him happy returns of the day and give him a few gifts. The gifts hadn't been junk, either; they'd all been things he'd been hinting at for a while.

It was more what they _hadn't _done which made him irritable; as it was his 21st, he'd been expecting something a bit more special than the usual visit and chat.

And they hadn't brought Hikari with them, which simply dismayed him more. Apparently she was doing a driving test and couldn't be there, but his parents said that she sent her love and best wishes. That was all very well, Taichi thought, but he needed her there. He knew that if anyone was going to be able to cheer him up from the night before, it was going to be his sister. She always knew what to say to make him feel better.

Then there was the day in general. It was well into the evening, and Taichi hadn't left the apartment once, except to buy his beer. He hadn't seen any of his friends; none of them had even called. Nothing special. It was depressing to think that he'd done nothing on such an important birthday but slouch in front of the TV and drink.

Taichi hated to catch himself thinking so selfishly, but he couldn't help but feel that his birthday should have been brilliant instead of mediocre.

After all, it wasn't every day that he turned twenty one.

He went to take another swig of beer, and found the can to be empty. It was tempting to throw the can across the room in frustration, but it was only the first one; he still had five more full ones waiting to be emptied into his mouth. Another one then, he decided, would be the best course of action.

Even with this plan in mind, it took Taichi a few minutes to muster the will to move from his comfortable position on the sofa. He wasn't even glad when he did; he stood up too quickly and pain rushed to his head, making him groan and want to lie back down again. It was with a slightly disorientated sway that he eventually stumbled into his kitchen in search of his beer, and he vaguely registered that it must have been the alcohol beginning to take effect.

He was pathetic. One can of beer and already he was all over the place.

It was then that he was struck with a revolutionary idea. All day he'd been waiting for people to come to him, but why couldn't he just go out somewhere instead? That way, he was guaranteed conversation, however meaningless or short. And he did like conversation; he'd never been the kind of person who liked to do nothing.

Besides, now that he thought about it, he quite fancied the idea of going to one of the aforementioned establishments just because he _could_. It'd be a great new experience, even if he went on his own. Maybe he'd even meet some people while he was there who could help him get over Yamato.

This was an even better plan than the second can of beer had been. Taichi wasted no time in first steadying himself so that no one would suspect him of drinking, and then making his way surely towards his apartment door. He was so focused on going out that he did nothing to alter his dishevelled appearance and almost forgot to take his keys.

When he got into his car, however, he was faced with yet another problem. Not that he was under the influence (he didn't really care about that since he'd only had one can and he didn't think it was going to make much difference to his driving) or that he looked as if he hadn't showered (which, for the record, he had), but that there were so many 'over 21s' places to choose from. How was he supposed to decide which one to go to?

A brief moment of stupidity made him think that he should just go to all of them. It was obviously the beer thinking for him, as he knew that there was no way he'd be able to have a decent time anywhere if he went to all of them. He wouldn't be there long enough, and he knew he wouldn't be able to resist having a drink or two at each stop. Maybe one can of beer wasn't enough to affect his driving, but any more than that and he'd probably start swerving about a bit. Then he'd be caught by the police and get points on his license.

No, that was a really stupid idea.

The stupidity fought back for a split second when Taichi wondered whether the police would let him off for drink-driving because it was his birthday. He shook his head and made a mental note not to try it if they caught him.

But that still didn't solve the problem of where he should go. He counted on his fingers the possibilities as he thought of them. There was that bar with the neon lights which he'd driven past a few times; he'd always thought that looked interesting. A strip club on the other side of the city was always an option, and then there was a regular club somewhere which his older friends often talked highly of…

It was difficult to decide.

He finally used 'eeny-meeny-miney-mo' to choose, and it came through with the strip club. That was as good a choice as any. He wouldn't look like such a loser if he went there on his own, and he'd be more likely to meet people; it was hard to imagine customers at a gay strip club being homophobic. He'd been looking forward to being able to go there for quite some time too, and now that he could he saw no reason not to. Especially since it was his birthday, and all.

Parking there was a nightmare; not because there was a lack of spaces, but because Taichi could not get his coordination right. He'd decided to reverse into a space so it would be easy to get out later, however it was proving to be more hassle than it was worth. On his first attempt, he reversed straight into the lamppost next to his space, and on the second he ended up right in the middle of two spaces.

The third time he was a little wonky, but saw no need to sort it out. Nobody was going to be checking that people had parked neatly.

After flashing his ID at the bouncer (which he'd only remembered to bring with him because it had already been in his pocket from where he'd proudly shown it to the girl who worked at the off-licence) Taichi waltzed through the door and glanced around. It was a strange-looking place; the walls were painted a deep red which, along with the tinted lighting, seemed to complement the nature of the club. Tables were arranged around three long platforms, each of which was adorned with bright lights and had a shiny metal pole connecting it to the ceiling.

This was all he took in before the illuminated bar area caught his attention, and he made his way in that direction. It was his first time at a strip club, after all; he couldn't _not_ drink.

He seated himself and before long one of the few bartenders came over. Taichi observed that he was rather young himself; he couldn't have been older than twenty five. He had quite a thin build, styled black hair and a friendly smile, and it didn't take Taichi very long to decide that he was really rather attractive.

And the way he eyed Taichi up and down on his way over didn't go unnoticed.

"What'll it be, then?" the man asked, flashing a grin which Taichi didn't hesitate to return.

"Got any tequila?"

"Certainly do." The man turned around to prepare Taichi's drink, and the brunette didn't even try to stop himself ogling him. "I've not seen you here before," the bartender continued. "You new to this area?"

Taichi shook his head. "No. I just wasn't old enough to come here before. Today's my 21st."

The bartender handed him his drink, and after Taichi had paid him he leaned against the counter. "Congratulations. Why are you here alone, if it's your birthday? Shouldn't you be out with friends instead of by your lonesome?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Taichi took a large gulp of his drink and winced as it burned his throat. The bartender shifted against the counter to make himself more comfortable, resting his cheek in his hand and taking on a slightly amused but sympathetic look. "Sounds like you haven't had the best of days."

"No, no," Taichi argued, "it's been ok. It just should've been better, that's all."

"Perhaps it'll improve while you're here, eh?"

"Maybe."

Nothing more was said for a while after that; Taichi nursed his tequila while the man just stared at him. It took him a while to notice that there were in fact quite a few people waiting to be served who the bartender was ignoring in favour of looking at him, and in all honesty it made him feel quite pleased with himself. It had been a while since anyone had taken an interest in him so boldly, mostly because he had usually been out and about while hanging off Yamato's arm.

There was that name again. He needed to stop thinking about him, no doubt about that. The blonde had made it quite clear the night before that he wasn't going to change his mind, and even if he did, Taichi wasn't sure he would be able to find it in himself to take him back after some of the things he'd said.

He needed to move on; the sooner the better. And with the pretty bartender checking him out, Taichi began to hope that maybe it wouldn't take as long as he'd originally thought.

It didn't take him too long to finish his drink, but when he did and he asked for another he couldn't stop himself slurring slightly. He was such a lightweight.

"Steady on," the bartender grinned as he took the glass away, "don't want you passing out on me. It'd be difficult to stop myself taking advantage of you."

Taichi laughed. He liked this man. He was funny, nice and really good looking; all of which were good things as far as Taichi was concerned. In fact, he had a good mind to abandon the whole strip club idea and just ask the man to come home with him.

He pondered the idea while the bartender handed him his refill, and he thanked him. Already, he felt better than he had done before he left. He'd have to come to this place more often; there was something about it which gave him the same warm, relaxed, happy feeling that being drunk did.

Although, that could have been because he actually was a bit drunk. He wasn't quite sure anymore.

He had been about to strike up a new line of conversation with the nice man and ask him if he wanted to go for a drink sometime when the main lights dimmed, eliciting a small cheer from many of the other customers. Taichi, with a little struggling, swivelled on his stool so he could see what was going on; this was what he had come for, after all. Vaguely, he noticed the music change to something with a stronger, more dance-like beat, and after a few moments the show started.

Three men emerged, one onto each of the brightly lit platforms, and the customers cheered again. It took a little effort, but Taichi eventually managed to focus enough to see them properly, and had another mouthful of his tequila.

He couldn't see the man on the far platform very well, due to his eyes being a little fuzzy combined with the man being so far away. He could just about make out a head of blonde hair, and immediately switched his gaze. No more reminders of Yamato were going to be welcomed that night.

Instead he looked at the man on the middle platform, who was considerably closer and, more importantly, not blonde. He was wearing a black mesh top, some holes bigger than others, and a pair of shiny hot-pants so tight that nothing was left to the imagination. Not that Taichi really minded. He wasn't, however, as pretty as the bartender, so Taichi turned to the last platform to see how well the third man could compete.

This time though, Taichi felt his mouth drop open, unable to help it, and it was the bartender who didn't measure up. The man was absolutely gorgeous. His hair was burgundy – or was it reddish-brown? – and was almost long enough to reach his shoulders but not quite. It framed his face wonderfully.

He was wearing a tight-fitting but completely unbuttoned shirt, teasing Taichi with the toned and tanned abdomen underneath. The skinny jeans he wore were ripped in many places and fraying quite badly. They were also unbuttoned, and Taichi gulped when he noticed.

He couldn't have been any older than Taichi was, either; he was youthful but had an understanding of what he was doing and he certainly knew how to do it without coming across as immature. In fact, Taichi was having some trouble keeping himself under control; he couldn't decide which part of the man to look at first. Obviously, there was his torso; shining in the light and making Taichi want to do terrible things. And his legs, being hugged tightly by the torn fabric, they were nice too. Or his head and his face, which looked very attractive from where Taichi was sitting, even though he was a bit too far away to see what colour his eyes were. It was so difficult to choose.

The bartender, with a side view of the gaping brunette, chuckled with amusement. "The guy on the right's your type, eh?"

Taichi was unable to do anything more than nod dumbly.

"He's one of my favourites too," the bartender said, aiming it at Taichi but not really bothered if he listened. "Great body, he's got. Likes things rough too, which is always a bonus."

The words made Taichi gulp again. Rough…yes, rough was good. Very good, even. He could probably have pictured it if he were a little less drunk; himself, the stripper guy, a pair of handcuffs, the nearest available flat surface…

It was all too good in Taichi's mind, and it simply made him even more fixed on the man. He watched as, without any sense of hurry, he shrugged off his shirt and exposed even more of the tanned flesh which quite a few of the customers wanted to see more of. Taichi became loosely aware of himself beginning to drool, and after a short delay he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

The man _did_ have a really great body. He was thinner than the other two strippers – not as thin as the bartender, mind you – but he was still fairly built; he must have spent quite a lot of time working out. His tan betrayed the fact that he must also have spent quite a lot of time in the sun. Maybe he worked out in the sun?

It was almost like Taichi's thoughts were being pulled on a leash, and he found himself wondering whether the stripper was that tanned all over. If he was, would that mean that he worked out in the sun naked? That was an interesting thought, and not one that was altogether unpleasant.

Even though the man's movements were languid, Taichi's eyes had difficulty keeping up. The minute they'd managed to focus on the man's uncovered torso, the man's hands had moved down to teasingly dance around the waistband of his jeans, particularly the open clasp, and Taichi had to somehow switch his gaze again. It was difficult, but worth it. He could feel shivers down his spine as he watched the arousing display, spreading a pleasantly warm sensation through his entire body before it settled comfortably in his groin.

When the man's hands left his jeans, Taichi let his eyes travel back over his body up to his face. With a body like that, Taichi had trouble believing that his face would be any less attractive. It was a shame that he was too far away to see him properly, leaving him with a decision to make; should he move closer, or should stay where he was?

Then the stripper looked his way, and their eyes met. At least, Taichi _thought_ their eyes met. It might have just been his own eyes playing alcohol-induced tricks on him; he wouldn't have been too surprised. This, however, didn't seem very likely as the stripper had frozen where he was standing.

They stared at each other for a good few moments before some of the other customers began to shout, wanting him to carry on performing. It seemed to snap him out of whatever stupor he had managed to go into and he glanced around the room quickly, backing up and finally rushing off the platform and behind the curtain he had originally emerged from.

Taichi furrowed his eyebrows while the almost-forgotten bartender laughed. "Must just not be his day. He wasn't in much of a good mood when he got here."

"He was fit," was the only slurry reply that Taichi could manage, still staring at the empty platform and quite confused as to where the man had run off to.

"That he is. Not as fit as you, mind. Here, let me get you another drink."

Taichi turned to look at the bartender for the first time since he'd turned away. He was still as pretty as he had been the first time, but after seeing that amazingly hot stripper he didn't seem like nearly as much of a catch. Still, Taichi gave him a wonky smile and set his empty glass on the counter. "No, no, it's fine. I should go home now anyway."

He moved as if to get off his stool, but the bartender persisted. "You haven't been here that long. Go on, at least stay for one more. Can't do any harm, can it?"

Taichi shook his head and, albeit with difficulty, stood up. "No, I have to go. Things to do and stuff. It was good talking to you."

"Alright, if you insist." The bartender grinned at him one more time. "Come back again some time, you hear? I work Monday to Friday."

Deciding not to reply, Taichi instead concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It was proving to be a rather complicated task, and more than once he found himself stumbling. It was lucky that the way out was clearly marked, otherwise he'd probably have gone through the wrong door.

Even so, it took a pretty long time and he gained quite a few odd looks from other customers. One of the other bartenders, not nearly as attractive as the first one, asked if he needed a hand, but Taichi stubbornly refused and told him that everything was under control. He kept telling himself the same thing, even when he tripped over his own feet a few moments later.

He even patted the large bouncer on the shoulder as he passed him, trying to inconspicuously regain some of his balance, earning him yet another peculiar glance. He was about to start reassuring the man that he wasn't going to be driving himself home, but managed to stop himself. That would have sounded way too suspicious, and he'd probably have laughed afterwards at having 'fooled him'. No, that was a very bad idea. So the pat on the shoulder would have to do and he stumbled around the building to the car park.

Briefly, he wondered where he'd parked. There were far more cars there now than there had been when he'd arrived, and he was having difficulty telling them all apart. He squinted at the rows of cars before, distracted by footsteps behind him, he spun round and came face to face with a man.

This man, he noted, didn't look very happy. Then he remembered who he was and, wobbling, shoved his pointed finger in his face. "You're that one…who ran away! The pretty one!"

The man recoiled from the finger and pushed it away from his face, a look of disdain on his face, but didn't say anything.

"You know," Taichi continued, "you're prettier than Yamato. But you're prettier with your shirt off, not that you don't look pretty with it on, of course…"

Raising his eyebrow, the man tried to translate Taichi's drunken slurring into proper words. When he had, he folded his arms across his chest, clearly not flattered by the compliments. "I think you've had too much to drink."

It appeared that this statement went in one of Taichi's ears and out the other. He gasped and covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes widening like a child's. "And you've got a nice voice too! I wish my voice was that nice, I just sound stupid. Yamato always said my voice was annoying, but yours isn't, so if I had yours then I wouldn't have an annoying voice anymore!"

He grinned sloppily at this logic, whereas the man simply frowned. "Why are you here?"

Taichi pondered this for a moment before answering. "I wish I could say I came to see you but I can't, because I didn't. Why did I come? You know, I don't think I can remember…oh wait, yes I can! Because it's my birthday, that's why!"

He expected to be wished a happy birthday, but the man didn't seem to care about it. "You've had too much alcohol to drive, if you're thinking about going home," he said, sidestepping the brunette and walking away toward the cars. "Go back inside and call a cab instead."

Taichi attempted to run after him and catch him up, but failed; he tripped once again and only stopped himself from falling to the ground by grabbing at a fistful of the man's coat. This merely served to make the man even more irate than he already was, and he turned to Taichi with a glare. "What do you think you're doing?"

Returning the glare with one which he hoped was equally frightening, Taichi tried to stand up, not relenting his grip on the man's coat. "I'm not letting you go. You're too pretty and I love you."

The man tried to shake his coat free. "You're out of your mind. You don't even know who I am, do you?"

"I want to know you!" Taichi persisted, wailing and clawing at the man. "Please!"

Then the man laughed a small, low laugh and looked into Taichi's pleading eyes. "You must have had so much to drink. Do you really not recognise me, even a little?"

Taichi furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to think. "Recognise you? No, I've never met you before."

"Really?" The man turned to face him completely. "My name's Motomiya. Motomiya Daisuke. Ringing any bells, yet?"

Taichi's expression remained blank, and he shook his head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something might have been trying to tell him that he knew that name from somewhere, but if it was it wasn't loud enough for him to take any notice of it.

Daisuke looked away again and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the way Taichi was clinging to him and burying his head under his arm. "Just go home, Yagami."

"No!"

"Go home!" He repeated a little more harshly before feeling the weight at his side get considerably heavier. He peered down, curious, and gingerly placed his hands on Taichi's shoulders.

"Yagami?" The brunette didn't answer; all he did was slip down toward the floor, and Daisuke tightened his hold on his shoulders.

"Yagami?" This time, Daisuke shook Taichi as he addressed him, and still received no answer. He looked up at the sky in despair and sighed; obviously the drink had taken its toll. That meant that Taichi would be out like a light for quite some time, and he couldn't just leave him there.

He glanced down helplessly at the dead weight in his arms as it shifted a little and groaned with discomfort, and he began to wish that he just hadn't gone to work that day.


	3. The Morning After the Night Before

**Chapter title: **The Morning After the Night Before  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **My God, writing this chapter was like a chore. Especially now that I've got a tonne of work to do, what with being in sixth form and stuff. I know I've got free lessons, and I do intend to spend most of them writing, but I couldn't do it with this because I'd already started it at home and I would have had to somehow get it to the school computers and… yeah. There's just so much work to do. Oh well. I like my classes, so it's ok. And I might do some of the upcoming chapters in my free lessons, unless on a whim I feel like doing a one-shot. On an even brighter note, I'm one review away from a thousand. One! It's well good! Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

The first thing Taichi realised upon waking up was that he had a headache of epic proportions. The bright mid-morning sunshine streaming in through the window was doing nothing to help his condition, and he shielded his eyes with the duvet. Already, it wasn't his day.

How much did he have to drink the night before? Probably not much, he reasoned, considering his low tolerance for alcohol, but that didn't change the fact that his head was pounding in about ten different places and making him want to be violently and copiously sick. He tried to remember, but every time his mind began to put the pieces together his head responded by throbbing even more aggressively than before, thus trying to think was made very difficult and it didn't take long for him to give up and roll over, away from the sun.

But even this didn't last long; it was only a few minutes before Taichi's mind made attempts at thinking again of its own accord. He groaned loudly, not wanting to be awake but unable to go back to sleep because of the questions he was coming up with. What on earth had he been doing drinking in the first place? It was a pity he was feeling to hung over to remember properly, because he could vaguely recall going out somewhere by himself. He couldn't for the life of him think where or why, but there must have been a good reason. He didn't normally get drunk enough to have next to no recollection the morning after.

As he continued steadily, albeit unwillingly, to grow more aware of his surroundings, something started niggling away in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite place it, but at that moment he didn't care; he was a bit more concerned with trying to recall the night's events without agitating his headache.

He found that it worked as long as he didn't try to think too quickly, and the first memory which soon made itself known was of a very attractive man. Taichi couldn't place him at first, since he had no idea why he should have been associating with such a pretty guy. He had black hair… Taichi couldn't recall ever meeting anybody with black hair who wasn't the size of a house. But this man was very thin. Thin man with black hair… Taichi scoured his brain (slowly, mind you) and could come up with no legitimate reason for knowing or meeting such a man.

Thinking of pretty men inevitably led to thinking of Yamato again, and Taichi allowed himself to smile lazily. His gorgeous, blonde boyfriend… Taichi couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him-

Oh wait, that's right. Of course he could remember _that_ explosive encounter; how could he have nearly forgotten? He no longer had his gorgeous, blonde boyfriend. Taichi groaned again, and buried himself even further under the duvet. He had had just about enough of Yamato. First he'd left him, and now he was making him forget about it and think that they were still happy together? It was _so_ like something he'd do, and Taichi wasn't going to put up with it. Knowing Yamato, it was probably his fault that he'd decided to get drunk the night before too.

Taichi was going to move on, starting today. He nodded his head in resolution and regretted it as soon as the pounding in his head increased tenfold. It also made his stomach churn, and he knew in an instant that he was going to throw up. Despite his headache, he clamped a hand over his mouth, threw the duvet off and leapt to his feet, squinting and trying to adjust to the sudden change in lighting; he didn't want to throw up all over his bed, after all.

He stumbled a little, since the quick movements had done nothing to help his headache, and prepared to make a dash to his adjoining bathroom. But when he turned in that direction, he stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened. He had not expected to be confronted with a very unfamiliar wall and no bathroom whatsoever.

It was then that the niggling feeling came back with full force and he came to the dreadful realisation of just what it was: he wasn't in his own apartment.

His eyes darted around the room, trying to take in as much as he could as quickly as possible. It was a rather small and basic room that he was in; furnishings were more or less limited to a bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. The walls were a dull white and the paint was chipping away in places, sometimes producing cracks that made the room look old and ready to collapse should the breeze pick up. Even so, the room was hardly bare. Whoever it belonged to was obviously not an organised person, since items and clothes were scattered about the place, and for a brief instant it reminded Taichi of his own apartment.

By the time he set eyes on the door it was too late and he fell to his knees while he brought up the contents of his stomach. He wasn't sure what to think. Was he supposed to be worried about not having the faintest idea of where he was? Or was it ok for him to be more concerned with how he was going to apologise to the owner of the room for throwing up all over their floor? He shook as he tried to recover, suddenly feeling disorientated and wondering whether he was just still asleep and having a bad dream.

He closed his eyes and just knelt for a few moments, making no effort to move away from the nasty smell of his own vomit but instead focusing his attention on trying to calm his shaky breathing. He wanted to know where he was and how he had come to be there; the shock he had first felt at discovering he was in an unknown place had worn off and had been quickly replaced by a horrible combination of dread, confusion and curiosity. The first thing on his list of priorities at that moment was to stop being sick, but this was closely followed by finding out just what had taken place the night before. He wiped his mouth unsteadily with the back of his arm and made as if to stand up but when he raised his eyes and saw a figure leaning casually in the doorway he fell back to his knees, his stomach lurching and bringing up whatever unpleasantness was still left in his system.

When he felt it stopping he looked up immediately, trying to get a better look at his… host? Captor? Whatever he was, he was still leaning in the doorway with his arms folded, sending a disapproving and vaguely disgusted look in Taichi's direction. Taichi didn't know who he was right away; while his bright blue shirt was loose without being baggy, he wore jeans which Taichi thought looked difficult to move in without causing unnecessary pain. Their gazes were locked for a few moments which seemed to Taichi like an eternity, and when the other man finally did speak it sounded as if he was merely wondering aloud to himself. "All over my floor, that's gross. Although I can't say I didn't think it would happen; I should've left a bucket or something."

Taichi didn't look away as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes full of questions and suspicions but he didn't trust himself enough to open his mouth without being sick again.

"It's your own fault, though," the man continued, turning his gaze downwards to idly pick at a hangnail. "You were completely smashed last night. I bet you don't remember a thing, do you?"

Then the man looked up again into Taichi's eyes, and Taichi didn't miss the intensity behind the look. It was when he tried to place it that he realised with a horrible start just who the man was. The memories of the previous night didn't all come flooding back suddenly as he'd hoped they would, but the identity of the man was only too clear.

It was Motomiya Daisuke; the only boy he'd ever really hated throughout his entire childhood. His eyes had given him away, since Taichi could remember seeing that same intensity in them many times while they had played football together as well as when they had bickered and fought. His hair was also a bit of a giveaway; although it was longer now than it had been when Taichi had last seen him, it was the same burgundy colour that he'd seen very rarely on anybody else. His features were the same while they had also gained depth with his age and experiences, and his skin was still a healthy bronze colour. But Taichi could also now remember that little episode in the car park. He remembered with a tinge of embarrassment the way he had clung to Daisuke so desperately in his drunken state, but he remembered with nothing less than utter mortification he way he had declared his undying love, slurring all his words to such an extreme that he was almost completely incoherent.

Unfortunately, he could also remember that Daisuke had managed somehow to understand what he'd said, and although he couldn't quite recall what he had said in response (if anything) Taichi was sure that it probably hadn't been either pleasant or polite. Maybe he would have felt the need to apologise about it if they hadn't had such an awful history.

As it was, they _had_ had an awful history and the last thing Taichi wanted to do was apologise about his drunken behaviour. To tell the truth he would have been much happier just sweeping that whole incident under the rug and forgetting that any of it ever happened. But he needed to say _something_. His mind was unbelievably foggy and he couldn't even remember where he'd been, much less the details of what had happened. He needed to find out everything he'd done, however horribly embarrassing it might be to hear it coming from the no doubt smug voice of his childhood enemy. It would be much better if he could just remember it all on his own, so it was most unfortunate that it wasn't always possible to remember things at will.

Taichi moved his hand away from his mouth, his eyes still locked with Daisuke's. He wanted to ask what had happened last night, and he wanted to know what had possessed him to drink as much as he obviously had done. If possible, he would also have liked to know who the thin, pretty man was who he could remember from somewhere, and where he could meet him again. But when he finally dared to speak, what he ended up saying was the last thing he was concerned about. "I need a piss."

Daisuke slid himself to stand at the edge of the doorway so Taichi could get past and gestured towards a door on the other side of the hall outside. "The bathroom's just there. Try not to make too much mess."

Now that he had brought the need to empty his bladder to his own attention, Taichi didn't even think about the mocking implications of what Daisuke had said. He spent longer than necessary in the bathroom with his head leaning against the wall, and he splashed some water onto his face in an effort to wake himself up. He guessed he could safely assume that he was in Daisuke's apartment. But what on earth was he doing there, of all places? Surely Daisuke hadn't brought him there of his own accord? Judging by the way they had interacted so far, Taichi would say that there was still bitterness between them and this put him in rather an awkward position.

His method for avoiding this position for as long as possible consisted of standing in Daisuke's bathroom for a good ten minutes, doing nothing but stare aimlessly at the walls. In his ten minutes of observation, however, he did notice that there were a lot of cracks in the paintwork and that there was a considerable amount of mould around the edges of the bath. He had to wonder how Daisuke let it get into such a state. He supposed he couldn't complain much, though; his own apartment was a tip. Every time he found himself free to tidy he'd do his best, but within a week or so the whole place would be back to the way it was before, if not worse. It hadn't taken him long to give up on the whole tidying idea unless he was really, really bored. But mess was one thing and mould was quite another; however messy he was, he'd never allow himself to live somewhere full of mould.

His headache was still throbbing away when he eventually emerged from the bathroom, but he still managed to notice that Daisuke had cleared up the vomit that Taichi had so kindly deposited all over his carpet. He vaguely wondered why Daisuke would clear that up but ignore mould, before he realised that the answer was pretty obvious. No one would want vomit stinking out their bedroom.

The smell of burning inevitably led him to the kitchen, where he was met with the sight of a frustrated Daisuke scratching at a piece of blackened toast with a butter knife and scattering crumbs all over the table. Taichi stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do; it seemed to properly dawn on him all too suddenly that he was a guest in his childhood enemy's home, and it was a situation that he had no idea how to handle, especially with his headache. All the being sick had also left him rather hungry, and he eyed the burnt toast like a vulture eyeing a corpse.

He was a little relieved, if unnerved, when Daisuke put the toast onto a plate and pushed the plate across the table towards Taichi. Taichi hesitated before sitting down, and watched Daisuke start rummaging through a cupboard. "Bon appétit," he heard him say. "Toast is good for hangovers."

Taichi knew he should have thanked him, but all he could manage was a small smile even though Daisuke had his back to him. He picked at his toast and ate it slowly, despite his hunger, and wondered how long it would be before he could go home again.

Daisuke dumped a glass of water, along with a couple of tablets, which Taichi assumed were painkillers, on the table in front of him. Taichi pretended to be too interested in his toast to thank him, but Daisuke didn't seem to care; he ignored him completely and instead started making himself some breakfast.

The burnt toast scratched at Taichi's throat, but it did make him feel a bit better. Obviously, Daisuke knew what he was talking about when it came to hangovers. But Taichi still felt uncomfortable, even when he swallowed his painkillers with a mouthful of water. He had no idea what he was doing in Daisuke's apartment, and could only recall that rather embarrassing scene from the night before. Then there was the fact that Daisuke, although his manner wasn't exactly friendly, was being hospitable, and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Well, Taichi never had enjoyed being kept in the dark, so when he felt that the toast had helped him to recover sufficiently he voiced his concerns. "What exactly happened last night?"

The look on his face must have said it all because Daisuke laughed, albeit without mirth. "We didn't have sex, if that's what you're thinking. Have you still not remembered anything at all?"

"Well…" Taichi couldn't stop the blush that spread across his features. "All I can remember, really, is… talking to you, at some point."

It hadn't been an outright lie, but Taichi averted his gaze anyway. He didn't want to be the one to speak the embarrassing truth aloud. Daisuke just smirked, but didn't say anything; obviously, he remembered the evening only too well.

Taichi forced himself to continue. "Did I go to a party or something?"

"Not so much a _party_… more a strip club."

A strip club? Taichi almost choked on his toast. That was impossible; he wasn't old enough to visit strip clubs. But then, why would Daisuke lie?

Well. Taichi could think of a number of reasons why he might, but he had to make sure anyway. He glanced around the room and spotted a calendar; when he saw the date, he understood. Yesterday had been his birthday, and he was finally allowed to go to strip clubs and the like. That made a lot of sense; it was just like him to do something just because he could. He also realised, with a twinge of chagrin, that he must have gone on his own, since Yamato had left him and he wouldn't have felt comfortable enough to go with any of his friends.

Which didn't explain how he had come to wake up in Daisuke's apartment. Perhaps he had been drugged.

Taichi finished his toast and pushed his glass of water in different directions across the table, pretending not to be too interested in watching Daisuke making his breakfast. "How come I'm here now? How did I get here?"

Daisuke didn't make any move to suggest that he had heard, and Taichi suspected that he might have been ignoring him. He was about to be slightly more demanding of an answer when Daisuke spoke up. "You really only remember talking to me in the car park?"

"Uh huh," Taichi muttered, still embarrassed that he had apparently allowed himself to get so drunk.

"Well, basically," Daisuke started, immediately getting distracted when the butter knife wouldn't cut his bread. He threw it into the sink in frustration and dug through his cutlery draw, looking for something more suitable, and before long emerged with a much larger knife. Cutting his bread with much more ease, he continued. "Basically, you got trollied. I don't know how much you had to drink, obviously, because I wasn't there. But I saw that Jinya was talking to you, so he probably put something in your drink. He usually does that when someone catches his interest."

Taichi interrupted, "I don't know anyone called Jinya."

"He works behind the bar at the club."

Almost instantly, Taichi thought of the pretty man who had stood out in his mind earlier that morning, and thought it safe to assume that he and Jinya were the same person. He scolded himself for not paying any attention whatsoever to his nametag.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Daisuke carried on. "The point is, you were obviously sloshed and drooling like my sister would drool at a rock star. I saw you and froze up in the middle of my routine. My boss wasn't too happy about that, needless to say, and after a bit of a fiery exchange he temporarily sacked me. I didn't even get paid, that stingy bastard. But yeah, I went to my car, wanting to go home, and there you are _again_, staggering around the car park like some drunkard."

Taichi blushed as Daisuke's retelling of the night before seemed to bring forth some rather humiliating images and snippets of conversation that he'd rather stayed forgotten. But Daisuke wasn't finished.

"I'm sure both of us would prefer it if I didn't go into details about our 'conversation', if you can even call it that. But the result of it all was that you passed out onto me."

"So you brought me back here?"

Daisuke dumped his messy sandwiches into a bowl. "Well, what else was I meant to do with you?"

"You could have taken me back into the club…" Pushing his glass again, Taichi kept his eyes on the table. "Put me into a back room or something until I sobered up and could get myself home…"

There was a scoff, and Daisuke sat himself at the other end of the table. "Yeah, because my boss would have _loved_ that. He'd have loved it so much that he'd have fired me for good. Believe me, I'd have left you there if I could; you were a pain in the arse to get into the car."

"Then why didn't you just call a cab for me?"

"Trust me when I say you were _completely_ smashed. You probably couldn't have even remembered where you live, let alone told somebody else. It was pretty stupid of you to get so drunk, actually."

Taichi almost scowled, before realising that he was still a guest in Daisuke's apartment and that he probably should show a bit of gratitude. So instead of instigating an argument, he attempted to change the subject. "Hey, how did you know who I was? I mean, you don't make it sound like I was in a state to tell you."

"Anybody else would have had a haircut after all these years." This time Taichi did scowl, and Daisuke made a defensive face. "Hey, don't get mad at me. It's not my fault that you're so easy to distinguish."

Taichi clenched his fists under the table as he glared at Daisuke, who was obliviously eating his sandwiches. There was something about him, but Taichi couldn't put his finger on what it was, that, even after all these years, really rubbed Taichi the wrong way. He felt like he was young again, running on the football pitch, wanting to concentrate on what he was doing but too distracted by the anger coursing through his veins. The anger was caused by Daisuke's very existence, really; if Taichi thought about it, he couldn't remember any actual events that sparked it all off. He had just known, from the moment they met, that they weren't going to get on.

And now, years later, it was exactly the same situation. They were both adults; they had both, presumably, had a great deal of experience in different areas of life and had both matured a lot. At least, Taichi felt _he_ had matured; he didn't think he could safely say the same for Daisuke, judging by the bitter undertones of his speech and actions and the subtle but constant mockery. And Taichi could feel the same anger bubbling away in his gut, could feel the same urges and impulses that had led to so many fights when they were children. He had to hand it to him, though; he seemed to be making an effort to be civil. It was certainly a start.

Unfortunately, as far as Taichi was concerned, making a start wasn't quite good enough. Just because Daisuke _appeared_ to be trying to be civilised, it didn't mean that Taichi could just cast aside all of his old, built-in mechanisms and suddenly stop seeing Daisuke as the only person he would ever truly hate. It was the little things, too; the way he sat sideways on his chair, the way he ate with his mouth open, the way he used his finger to scoop up the honey that dripped out of his sandwich and onto the bowl; all these small things merged and Taichi found it difficult to stand.

Besides, almost no one was allowed to make fun of his hair.

Nonetheless, as he had to keep reminding himself, he was still a guest, so for the time being he would have to contain himself. His fists stayed clenched, but he tried to keep control of his voice as he replied, "Well, sorry for liking my hair the way it is. If you make comments like this to everybody, it's no wonder you were fired. Temporarily or not."

Taichi knew right then that he had overstepped the mark, as well as failed to keep the tone of his voice in check. In an instant, Daisuke had shoved his empty bowl aside and lunged across the short table, grabbing Taichi by the collar and roughly pulling him forward so that the two of them were nose to nose. His eyes were ablaze and his teeth were clenched, so Taichi let his own anger show in his face. He could feel Daisuke's heavy breath across his lips, could smell traces of what had probably been yesterday's cologne. They held each other's gaze for a few furious moments before Daisuke snarled, "Who the hell are _you_ to be making assumptions, huh? I bet you've never been fired, have you? You don't have any idea what it's like; working fifty hours a week just to make ends meet, coming back every day hoping that your home hasn't been repossessed, spending what's supposed to be the best days of your life doing a job that you _hate_ so that you can afford to pay the never-ending list of bills. You've always had people doing everything for you, and it makes me sick. So don't you dare start going on about being fired like you're some sort of expert until you know how things work in the real world!"

They stayed in that position for a few moments longer, as close as lovers, until Daisuke finally released Taichi's collar and stood up from the table. Taichi stayed sitting down, a little taken aback from the outburst. Work was obviously quite a touchy subject. He wasn't given much time to react however, as Daisuke took his keys and headed for the front door. "I'll take you back to the club so you can get your car," he said, his tone so regular that no one would have guessed he had been hissing and spitting poison only moments ago, "then you can go home. Come on, we haven't got all day."


	4. Lemons into Lemonade

**Chapter title: **Lemons into Lemonade  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **I keep being tempted to start new fics, and I have to stop myself. I have to get at least one of my current ones finished first, and I'm presently concentrating on this one. It's tricky though, because I have no idea how I'm going to end it. Or how I'm even going to _get_ to the ending. But once I have finished, I'm going to write a crack fic to celebrate reaching a thousand reviews. And do you want to know something else? This year I'm going to take part in the NaNoWriMo, although I have yet to come up with a decent plot. I must practice writing quickly, hehe.

* * *

Taichi groaned and threw himself face first onto his sofa. He still couldn't quite get his head around what had happened. He'd gotten himself so drunk that he could hardly remember anything when he woke up in the apartment belonging to someone he hadn't seen for about eleven years. 

It may have just been him, but he didn't think that any of that went together very well. Getting very, very drunk, yes, alright. Waking up in someone else's apartment, fine. Unexpectedly seeing your childhood enemy after more than a decade, understandable. But when the three were thrown together… well, it was a combination of elements that made Taichi's head spin.

The drive to the strip club to get his car had been awkward on Taichi's part and silent on Daisuke's. The awkwardness had been bearable while they were still in the apartment; at least then Taichi could have left if he really couldn't stand it. But in the tiny, bashed-up vehicle there was no escape route, so he'd found himself trying to be civil. He made statements about small things, like the weather and what the almost muted announcer on the radio was talking about, but all of his efforts had been rewarded with a total lack of acknowledgment, or maybe a grunt if he was lucky. He'd have given up if he didn't detest silence during car journeys so much.

Daisuke had probably still been fuming about things relating to his previous outburst.

It hadn't been much better when they'd arrived. Taichi had wasted no time in getting his seatbelt off, and had offhandedly thanked Daisuke as he opened the door. Daisuke had only tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently and nodded; he still hadn't said a word. It was probably just as well, when Taichi thought about it; if he'd opened his mouth it would likely have been to make some snide remark and everything would have kicked off again. He could see it escalating into a physical brawl outside the strip club and, as much as Taichi disliked Daisuke, he had no desire to get him fired. So he'd left it at the nod and left the car, noticing that Daisuke couldn't seem to drive away quickly enough.

Now that he'd had time to himself to think everything over properly without the hangover he'd had earlier, he had bewildered himself beyond his regular state of mind. He pressed his face into the cushions, inhaling the unpleasant smell of old beer and that distinctive odour that furniture acquired when he hadn't been cleaned for quite some time. Perhaps he could distract himself by cleaning his apartment; he couldn't deny that it needed a good going over with a bin bag and a vacuum cleaner. He knew he'd more than likely get bored after half an hour, but it was worth a shot. At least that would be half an hour of being distracted.

Unfortunately, this was much easier said than done. Taichi had managed to make himself quite comfortable lying face down on his sofa, and found his body stubbornly refusing to move. He ordered himself to sit up, but he only seemed to sink further into the cushions.

It must have been the idea of tidying and cleaning that made him so unwilling, because the moment he heard his phone ringing he bolted upright. Whoever was on the other end was lucky to be ringing then, since he'd only been in the door a few minutes. If they'd rung earlier, he wouldn't have been able to answer. He heaved himself to his feet and stumbled over the clutter to pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Taichi, it's me!"

He smiled; it was Hikari. It made him happy to hear her voice, even if it was only over the phone. Her powerful ability to make people feel better just by speaking to them was just as effective through telephone wires as it was in person. "Hey, how're you doing? The parents told me you did your driving test; how did it go? Brilliantly, I assume."

He could almost hear her face light up. "Yeah, it went really well. To say it went brilliantly would be an understatement, actually. I was so nervous though, I couldn't stop shaking beforehand. Now I know what you meant when you came home from your driving test and said you'd never been more nervous about anything."

"I did tell you to calm yourself down before you left," Taichi laughed, "but congratulations. What did the parents say?"

"Oh, they reacted how you'd expect them to. Dad congratulated me and promptly said he wasn't buying me a car; mum said it was wonderful then told me to help her with dinner."

"You know, the best part of living alone is no longer having to eat that health food rubbish. I still can't get over how great it is."

"Yippee for you. At least it won't be long until I have to move out too." Then Hikari's tone doubled in excitement. "Enough about me, though! Happy birthday for yesterday! What presents did you get? What did you do to celebrate? Anything special? What did Yamato get you? How is he, anyway? I haven't seen him for ages!"

Taichi sighed, beginning to feel down again. It wasn't Hikari's fault; she didn't know. "Yamato and I… we split up. A couple of days ago."

She gasped loudly. "What? What happened? I thought you two were fine…"

"Yeah, so did I. Apparently not." Taichi shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "I'd rather not talk about it, if that's alright. Besides…"

He trailed off, unsure of what he had been planning to say next. Besides _what_? Nothing had happened to make him feel any better, and he hadn't met anybody new and amazing in the short time that he'd been single. With the exception of the pretty bartender who was said to drug people's drinks, but Taichi didn't think he wanted to get involved with someone who did things like that.

His mind drifted back to Daisuke, and he didn't miss the implications. What he did do was fervently deny them. He had, since he'd woken up, managed to remember most of what happened at the club; it was with horror that he'd remembered finding Daisuke incredibly attractive when he walked out from behind his curtain, and he'd comforted himself by putting it down to the alcohol. He wouldn't have had the same thoughts if he had been sober, surely, so he didn't like the way his preconscious mind was trying to convince him that he found Daisuke just as gorgeous when he wasn't under the influence.

And the way he'd inadvertently checked Daisuke out after he'd finished throwing up? He had only been trying to get a good look at his captor. Daisuke was not attractive in the slightest little bit; end of.

"Besides…?"

Oh. He'd almost forgotten that his sister was on the other end of the phone. "Besides nothing. Forget it."

He swore under his breath when he realised what he'd said. 'Forget it.' If he'd said anything else, she might have dropped the subject there. But now, because he'd said that, forgetting it would be the last thing she'd do. She could be quite inquisitive and nosy when she wanted to be, and had a way of wheedling any information out of anyone. He braced himself for the worst and willed himself to stay strong.

"Forget it? You must be joking. You _have_ to tell me now. Have you met someone else? What's his name?"

"There _isn't_ anyone else; you always jump to conclusions like this."

"And I usually end up being right. Come on, confess. Who's the lucky man?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

If Taichi hadn't sounded suspicious before, he did then. He tried a change of tactic before Hikari could say anything else that might cause him to incriminate himself. "But going back to far more interesting subjects, my birthday was alright. It was a shame you couldn't come over, I was looking forward to seeing you. Especially since no one else came over. The only presents I got were the ones from the parents and you, so I guess you already knew what they were. Then I went… out in the evening."

"No one else came to see you? Seriously?" Hikari sounded astonished. "That's so harsh. Or are birthdays just different when you get to that age? Oh well. Where did you go?"

Taichi never had been good at lying quickly. "Uh… nowhere special. Just around, really."

"I don't believe you," she replied in a sing-song voice, "because I tried to ring you earlier and you didn't answer, so you must have been out all night."

"Well, I got delayed…"

"_Delayed_? Stop lying. You met someone and went home with them, didn't you? Were they good?"

"Hikari, _please_-"

"Oh, let me guess what he looked like. Let's see, he was a tall, dark, handsome stranger with amazing eyes and wonderful dentistry. He was wearing a white shirt with a black waistcoat and dark blue jeans that showed off his rear, and he had piercings in one of his ears. He was tanned all over and had a smile that made you want to bone him-"

"I'm hanging up now, Hikari," Taichi said loudly to ensure that she heard, not wanting to hear her go into any more detail about the hypothetical stranger since his jeans were beginning to feel a little tight. "Bye, and congratulations again for the test."

He hung up before he could hear her say anything else and put the phone down. That could very easily have become an awfully awkward conversation for him. Only when he was going through some sort of _private_ crisis did her inquisitiveness bother him. It was alright for her friends; they only had to endure it at school with her. But she was his sister, so he was forced to grin and bear it all the time. Well, not so much now that he had moved out, but when they lived together it had been hell. Secrets were unheard of in that house whenever she was there. It was much easier to be evasive over the phone, and for that Taichi was very grateful.

Unfortunately, the call had done nothing to distract Taichi from said crisis. In fact, it had only served to make it worse. He had been trying his best to avoid thinking about the way he'd found Daisuke hotter than both Yamato and the pretty bartender – it was a most humiliating recollection – but that conversation with Hikari had planted the memory firmly in his conscious mind.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Daisuke had been a complete stranger, or even an old friend. There was nothing wrong with finding strangers and old friends attractive. But someone he hated with every fibre of his being? It didn't match up. If he wasn't keen on his personality, he didn't know how it made sense to also think he was the best looking man on the planet. Not only that, but it was embarrassing too. Taichi dreaded to imagine what would come of it if Daisuke ever found out; he'd be lucky to get away with a punch in the jaw. It wasn't because of Daisuke's unconfirmed sexual orientation, since Taichi thought the fact that he worked in a gay strip club gave him away, but it was again because they just didn't get on.

The physical attraction there was something that wasn't supposed to exist, and Taichi was going to do everything in his power to bury it completely. And that started with forgetting that entire evening (and morning after) ever happened.

It was time to stop brooding and start distracting himself properly by cleaning.

* * *

He was surprised he had managed to keep it up for so long, really. He started with simple things, like putting away the clothes that were strewn carelessly over his furniture and picking up all the junk that was obstructing his view of the carpet. He'd then given up on that and had moved on to the kitchen, where he had emptied his fridge of out-of-date food and reluctantly tackled the week's worth of washing up. He had also started to wipe down the dirty counter but he'd grown bored halfway through and gone back to the rest of the apartment. Vacuum cleaning had been a nightmare; first he'd had to find the blasted thing, then he'd had to remember how it worked. Once he'd got it working, he'd managed to get things like paper and large safety pins stuck in the tube more than once. Frustrating experiences, if nothing else. 

And now, after cleaning, tidying, polishing and dusting for another hour or so, his apartment was as close to spotless as it ever had been. Taichi was proud of himself, standing with his hands on his hips and observing the results of all his hard labour. He'd even changed out of his dirty clothes from yesterday and put on clean ones. He almost wished Hikari could have been there to see it.

Which was a stupid thing for him to wish for, almost or not, because it reminded him of the earlier phone call which in turn reminded him of Daisuke. It was even more frustrating than vacuum cleaning had been, since the whole tidying experience had successfully managed to distract him. Now he was back to where he was before he'd started, except that his apartment was clean and that meant that there was one less thing he could distract himself with.

He threw his duster to the floor in a vain effort to relieve himself of some of his irritation. It just wasn't fair. He must have done something to really piss the gods off in a past life for them to come back now and bite him in the arse like this. They could have chosen anybody in the entire world for him to chase after while on the rebound, for he desperately clung to the belief that the rebound was what it was; but they had chosen Motomiya Daisuke. Even the mere thought of his name was now enough to have him teetering on the brink of madness, although it pained him to admit that he didn't know whether this madness was the result of his annoyance or of the ache he felt at being parted from someone so attractive. Or a combination of the two; he wasn't sure which would be worse.

Either way, it was becoming apparent that doing idle housework was not going to keep him adequately busy. He needed the thoughts that were becoming increasingly concerning to him to be stopped, not just delayed. Delaying them, prolonging the inevitable, only seemed to make it worse.

But if _cleaning_ couldn't properly distract him, what could?

The conversation with his sister had clearly shown that a phone call wasn't going to keep his mind from anything, although he did briefly toy with the idea of ringing Yamato. To tell the truth, his mind was still reeling as to how so many years of close friendship and later a loving relationship could seemingly so easily be terminated. If Taichi didn't know Yamato well enough to know that he always thought every important decision through thoroughly before putting it into motion, he might've thought that the relationship's end had been a whim on Yamato's part. He couldn't think of anything that might provoke such a sudden end to something with so much potential.

He decided against this idea because he knew full well that no good would come of the call, and he was painfully aware that he would most likely think of Daisuke even more after one of them hung up on the other.

And there he was, thinking about him _yet again_. It was intolerable, and verging on being unbearable. But he didn't know what he could possibly do about it. There was no kind of technology available that could erase thoughts or memories, and he had tried to distract himself and failed.

After a considerable amount of pacing and a bowl of cereal covered in sugar, he decided to try taking the bull by the horns. If avoiding of the problem wasn't helping, maybe facing it would fare a little better. When life gives you lemons make lemonade, and all the other similar lines. So he donned his jacket and made his way to his car.

He couldn't remember the route very well, since he hadn't been paying attention when Daisuke drove him to pick up his car. He'd been concentrating far more on tackling the awkward silence between them. As a result, a number of times he found himself driving down completely unfamiliar roads. It made him wish he'd paid more attention to the area Daisuke lived in, or at least to a couple of street names. Doing U-turns and looking at signposts wasn't helping either; Daisuke could have lived in any of them for all he knew. What should have been a fifteen minute journey became an hour long search down all the lesser known roads in Odaiba, and Taichi was so relieved when he came across a building he recognised that he sounded his horn with his forehead.

He drove slowly from then on so as not to make any more wrong turns, causing a number of more impatient drivers to overtake and shout obscenities out of their windows on their way past. One man even threw his cigarette at Taichi's windscreen, which he thought was a bit uncalled for. But he made it to the right apartment building eventually and without injury, found somewhere to park and turned off the engine.

He was hesitant, however, to get out of the car. It wasn't like him to have second thoughts, but he found himself wondering whether this was really a good idea. He didn't even have an excuse to be there. What was he going to do? Just say, 'I couldn't stop thinking about you' after turning up on the doorstep? He doubted if an arrival like that would be taken very well. Then again, it wasn't likely that any arrival at all from him would be welcomed. He'd be genuinely surprised if it was.

Stepping out of the car, he refused to allow himself to think about it any further. He wasn't a person who liked to think things through before he did them; he just went right ahead and hoped everything went his way. So this time he would just do what he went there to do – to face the problem head on – and hope that by the time he left again everything would be sorted.

That was the plan in his mind as he entered the building, but he realised quickly that it wasn't going to be that easy. He had no idea which number Daisuke lived at. He remembered coming down a few flights of stairs that morning, but that was about it. And he didn't really fancy knocking on everyone's doors until he got the right one.

It put a major damper on his plan, and he was tempted to give up. But fate had other plans for him, it seemed; an old woman weighed down with carrier bags struggled through the doors. Taichi, deciding to be a good citizen, approached her and asked if she needed any help.

If she was at all afraid of him being one of those young pranksters who preyed on the elderly, she didn't show it. "Are you sure? If you don't mind, thank you, young man."

She handed him half of her bags, and he was surprised to find that they were quite heavy. She must have been a pretty strong old lady to have lugged all of them from the shops on her own. They took the lift up a few floors and walked down a corridor, stopping in front of a door.

"I haven't seen you around here before, young man," she said to him as she fished her keys out of her bag. "Are you visiting family? Or a friend?"

He grinned at her as they took the carrier bags inside, and he placed his on the kitchen counter. "Something like that, yeah. Daisuke Motomiya; do you know him?"

The old lady laughed with delight. "Oh Daisuke, he's a lovely boy. He sometimes helps me with my shopping too. I should have guessed you were his friend."

Taichi tried to laugh politely, but the idea of Daisuke being his _friend_ was the most absurd thing he'd heard for some time. And he really couldn't picture Daisuke being a helpful kind of person.

But the woman didn't seem to notice his forced laugh and carried on. "He supports himself all on his own, you know. His parents must be so proud of him."

Taichi almost snorted, and wondered whether Daisuke's parents even knew he worked as a stripper. At a gay strip club, no less.

Clearly the woman had no idea either, because she kept going. "It's a shame that a nice boy like that hasn't found himself a girl to settle down with. Does he have a girlfriend that he hasn't brought back here?"

Forcing himself to contain his laughter, Taichi avoided the question. "I haven't seen him for a while. I'm just here to see how he's doing, that's all."

"Oh!" The woman looked surprised and pointed out the door. "Well, he only lives across the hall there. A lovely boy. He's always helping me with things."

He only lived across the hall? Taichi's task was suddenly made far easier, and he decided not to waste any more time. "Are you alright with this now?"

"Oh yes," the woman waved her hand dismissively, "go and see Daisuke. I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."

So Taichi left and closed the door behind him. He'd always found old people a little strange, but he supposed that she didn't know any better. Although she certainly seemed to think very highly of Daisuke. A helpful, kind, lovely boy? Taichi had to wonder whether they were living in the same dimension. Or whether they were even talking about the same person.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He went to the first door across the hall and knocked before he could stop himself.

Waiting for someone to answer was agony. A million thoughts, all different in nature and strength, raced through his mind and he couldn't keep up. He shifted his weight onto his right foot and took a deep breath, hoping he looked more composed than he felt as he heard footsteps approach from the other side of the door.

When the door opened, a girl of about fifteen stood there and gave him a questioning look as she started to blush. He stood awkwardly, not having been expecting this. When he'd been in Daisuke's apartment earlier there had been no sign of anyone else living there, much less a teenage girl. He glanced up to peer at the interior quickly, and realised that this wasn't Daisuke's apartment at all. He stammered apologies about being at the wrong apartment and rushed out of the girl's sight, sighing heavily when he heard her shut the door.

It was then that it occurred to him; he didn't have the faintest idea of what he was doing. He had come to confront the problem. The problem was that he was physically (and physically _only_) attracted to Daisuke. But how was he supposed to go about this confrontation? He had realised, standing in front of that girl, that he would have done exactly the same thing if it _had_ been Daisuke who answered the door. Except it probably would have been much worse, with a lot of blushing and a lot of ridiculous excuses. Coming without a plan had been a bad idea, he decided; now that he was actually there, he didn't know what to do next. Or how to do it, or what it would accomplish.

He just wanted Daisuke out of his head, and somehow he had come to the conclusion that paying him a visit would be the best way to achieve that. What a stupid thought that had been.

For the second time, Taichi was tempted to run and abandon the 'plan' altogether. But he couldn't do it, now when he'd come so far already. Daisuke lived on the other side of one of these doors, and he'd be damned if he didn't at least find out which one it was. Especially after getting it wrong the first time.

He needed something to say though, or else Daisuke would just slam the door in his face. He couldn't very well tell him the truth, because that might end in a bit of a violent way. He supposed that he could say he'd forgotten something important, like his ID. That would provide a valid excuse for his appearance, and at the same time he could attempt to rid himself of his ludicrous attraction.

So, excuse in mind, he moved on to the next door. This time when he knocked, however, the result was more promising. He heard a thump from inside, although he couldn't quite tell what it was, followed by the unmistakeable voice of the person he was looking for, even if it was muffled by the door.

Even so, Taichi could hear the words quite clearly. "Yeah, you can't _wait_ to take my money away, can you? You're not even supposed to collect rent yet, you parasitic bastard-"

Daisuke had clearly been expecting someone else. The shock of seeing Taichi on his doorstep instead cut him off, and he blinked as if a lack of sleep might have been making his hallucinate. But no; he blinked three times, and Taichi was still standing there, feeling as awkward and out of place as he looked.

Meanwhile, Taichi's excuse for visiting had completely slipped his mind. That was bad; he couldn't just stand there like a lemon. He was forced to take a gamble. He opened his mouth and trusted his brain to come up with something decent to say.

Unfortunately, the best it managed to do was, "Hey."


	5. Firework Maker

**Chapter title: **Firework Maker  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **I'll say this now before I forget – don't expect any fanfiction updates from me during November, because all my time will be taken up with NaNoWriMo. I've got a wonderful story about a pair of gay twins planned, and if anyone wants to read it I'm planning to make a fictionpress account and put it on there. It's going to be good fun, even if it will drive me barmy. As for this fic, though, I'm just going with the flow at the moment. I mean it when I say that I have _absolutely no idea_ what's going to happen next.

* * *

The silence that followed was tense. Daisuke continued to blink, seemingly unable to comprehend the fact that Taichi was back after a mere few hours, while Taichi inwardly scolded himself for using such a stupid greeting. Could he really not do any better than 'hey'?

He shifted his feet and lifted his head to look Daisuke in the eyes. It proved to be more difficult than he thought it would be, and he found himself averting his gaze again almost immediately. The combination of surprise, confusion and antipathy he saw was something he didn't want to face just yet. He reached up to scratch his head and desperately tried to remember what he had hoped to use as his excuse for turning up.

When an agonising few seconds had passed and he still hadn't given an explanation, Daisuke made a move to shut the door. But Taichi was quick to react, both putting his foot in the gap and pressing on the door with his hands. He wasn't sure what to say, but he knew he had to do _something_; he had come too far not to. "Wait!"

Daisuke looked up, pausing in trying to force Taichi's foot out of the door, his expression impatient and irritated. Since his words were currently failing him, Taichi tried to plead with his eyes. He attempted a winning smile to buy himself some time, cursing the way his memory went down the drain when under pressure. Daisuke, however, didn't seem too impressed and tapped his fingers repeatedly on the door handle in a gesture of pure annoyance.

This was a disaster.

Taichi tried to regain some composure and looked into Daisuke's eyes, immediately wishing he hadn't. He was angry, there was no doubt about that. What made it worse was that he had every right to be angry; Taichi would have been just as mad, if not more, if their positions were reversed. Nobody wanted to encounter an old irritation twice in one day after eleven years of nothing, so Taichi could really understand why Daisuke was pissed off that he'd turned up. But he'd done it, and he was hardly cowardly enough to make a run for it now. He prayed to any and all gods to help him remember his excuse; he didn't want to be standing there any longer than was necessary.

It didn't help that their gazes seemed locked; Daisuke didn't want to glare in any other direction and Taichi couldn't have broken the stare if he tried. There was a very thick barrier of _something_ between them. Taichi could feel it and he suspected that Daisuke could too, and the staring only intensified whatever it was tenfold. It was one of the most uncomfortable things he'd ever experienced in his life, but he couldn't look anywhere else. It was impossible to break. Was it a matter of male pride? The first to look away was the weaker? Or was there something else there?

Then the gods came through for him, and he inwardly rejoiced. "I think I left my ID."

His foot was promptly kicked out of the way and the door slammed shut. Taichi stepped back in surprise, taking on a look of confusion. He hadn't expected _that_. He had hoped that if Daisuke was going to slam the door on him, he would have done it instantly as opposed to after he had given his seemingly legitimate excuse.

He was surprised again when the door was reopened, but he found his mouth hanging open when Daisuke dangled his ID in front of him. It took a few moments to register; he peered closely at the card and saw his picture on it. Still unable to understand, he hurriedly searched his pockets. Empty. So he really _had_ left his ID; it was just as well he'd come back, then. And now his excuse seemed even more reliable.

"Let's cut to the chase, yeah?" Daisuke said, breaking the silence that was fast becoming rather awkward. "Why are you here? And don't lie this time."

Taichi resembled nothing less than a deer caught in headlights, and Daisuke failed to suppress a snort of amusement. "If you really had come because you'd forgotten your ID," he explained, "you wouldn't have been so surprised when I got it for you."

Wisely opting not to reply, Taichi instead made a grab for his ID. But Daisuke moved his hand back, nearly causing Taichi to fall onto him, and effectively removing the ID from his reach. He smirked, and Taichi felt himself begin to blush. This whole encounter was definitely not going as well as he'd hoped it would. But then, what did he really expect? He was an impulsive person. He had charged right into the lion's den armed with nothing but an excuse which he'd promptly forgotten and now he had no idea how he was supposed to proceed.

It was an inner battle which he fervently hoped he was not showing visible signs of. From where he was standing, there were two options available to him; the first was to tell the truth, to say that he'd come because Daisuke was too gorgeous to stop thinking about, and the second was to bolt. It wasn't a promising outlook. Running away was out of the question completely, for many reasons; it would make him look like a coward (which he wasn't), the problem he'd come to fix would only get worse, he'd never be able to show his face at the strip club again _and_ Daisuke would still have his ID. He needed that before he went anywhere. But hadn't he already decided that coming clean about the physical attraction was a bad idea and would only lead to undesirable outcomes?

Both paths had undesirable outcomes, really. It was just a case of choosing the lesser of two evils, and hadn't Taichi come in the first place to get the whole thing sorted out?

He asked before he could give himself time to have second thoughts. "Can I come in?"

Daisuke, however, looked at him as if the answer was an obvious one. "No."

_Fine,_ he thought, _have it your way._ If Daisuke wanted this to be done where anybody could hear, then so be it. He glanced quickly down the corridors, almost hoping for someone to come outside so he could make this as embarrassing as possible. It was a fleeting desire that passed as soon as he realised that it would also be quite embarrassing for him. He took a breath; this was going to be embarrassing no matter how many people heard it. But it had to be done; he didn't have any other ideas.

"The reason I'm here," he started carefully, wanting to leave with as many teeth intact as he could, "is… well, you won't like it. You're either going to punch me in the face or start sneering as if you're superior to me, and I don't really want either of those to happen so-"

"Maybe you'd better come in, then," Daisuke interrupted, moving back and opening the door fully. "I don't want to go upsetting the neighbours."

Taichi moved inside quickly, albeit a bit cautiously, glad to be away from potential prying eyes. He tried to make the tone of the conversation lighter, so as to lower his chances of getting hit to the absolute minimum. "I spoke to one of your neighbours just now. She seemed to like you a lot."

"Which one?"

"I don't know, I didn't think to ask for her name," Taichi admitted. "An old woman who lives a couple of doors down. She said you sometimes help her to carry her shopping."

"Oh yeah, her. I do help sometimes. She's going to end up with a hunchback if she keeps having to carry all those bags on her own."

"I did think they were a bit heavy for an old woman."

Daisuke didn't reply, so the conversation dwindled down into silence. Taichi shuffled and wondered what to say. Clearly, he would have to build up to it. He couldn't just announce that he thought Daisuke was hot without some kind of warning first. But how could he introduce the matter?

It wasn't like Daisuke was helping, either. He was making no effort whatsoever to get to the point, instead paying all his attention to flicking the corner of a small table. It seemed that he wasn't planning to initiate any more conversation for a while, so Taichi looked at the ceiling and hoped his words wouldn't fail him like they had only moments before.

"I know you don't like me. To be honest, I don't like you either. You're arrogant and you act like you've got a stick up your arse about something-"

Daisuke interrupted him again, sending him a look that was nothing less than pissed off. "If that's what you came to say, don't bother. I don't want to hear it and you can just fuck off home."

At least Taichi could recognise his own mistakes when he made them, and he tried his best to backtrack. "No, that's not what I meant. I… oh shit, that was such a bad way to start. Well, I did mean it, but it's understandable considering the circumstances, right? Because you don't like me either so it all gets cancelled out. But that wasn't what I came to say at all… Christ, this is more difficult than I thought it would be."

As Taichi alternated clumsily between talking to Daisuke and mumbling to himself, Daisuke tapped his foot and was making a visible effort to be patient. Taichi was grateful; he knew that at any time he wanted to Daisuke could just refuse to hear any more and throw him back out of the door. He decided he'd better stop beating about the bush, as he realised that the more impatient Daisuke got, the worse he was going to take the news.

"What I came to say is that you're really hot."

With either a smug smile or an angry snarl due to appear on Daisuke's face any second, Taichi thought that he'd better start explaining himself. "Only physically though, and it's not like I can help it! What did you expect me to think, waltzing around with a body like that in tight clothes? And I'm not telling you this so I can be a laughing stock; I'm telling you because it's been driving me mad all day and I can't do anything without thinking about you every two seconds. Even trying to clean my apartment didn't distract me, and believe me that was a mission in itself!"

So focused was Taichi on producing enough excuses to get away with his confession in one piece, he missed Daisuke's rapidly changing expression. He couldn't seem to decide whether to settle on astounded, angry, amused or a combination of all three.

When Taichi was done with explaining himself and dared to take a peek at how Daisuke was reacting, he found that he had turned around, cleverly concealing his face. But the low, bitter tone of his voice said it all. "What, am I _that_ repulsive?"

Taichi blinked; hadn't he been listening to any of that at all? "How have you managed to get _that_ out of 'you're really hot'?"

"Why else would you be making excuses for it?" Daisuke turned back to face him, clearly furious, the volume of his voice going up a notch. "If I was some stranger, I bet you wouldn't be making excuses at all! And you're making excuses because you hate me. Before you say that I hate you too, I don't. Sure, you're one of the biggest arseholes I've ever met, but when have I ever said anything about hating you? Hate's such a strong word."

As had been expected, Daisuke did look ready to punch him. But it was for a reason he hadn't even considered, and that made him reluctant to reply. He could see why Daisuke was pissed off, and he had no desire to anger him further lest he turn violent; but how on _earth_ was he supposed to answer that?

Daisuke saved him the trouble, making a sudden lunge across the small gap between them, effectively taking Taichi by surprise. He had expected a fight of some sort at first, but not after Daisuke's declaration that he didn't hate him after all. He struggled; he wasn't weak by a long shot, and Daisuke didn't seem to be trying to land any blows, but when Daisuke had surprised him it had put him at a disadvantage. He was off balance, and it didn't take too long for them both to fall to the floor.

Being on the disadvantaged end of the scuffle, Taichi took most of the pain from the fall and it took him a moment to regain his bearings. It was more than enough time for Daisuke to pin him on his back, with his knees on either side of Taichi's hips and holding his hands to the floor. He brought their faces close together, and Taichi was only too aware of the heavy, angry breathing across his face. Fighting to free himself but in vain, he glared up at Daisuke and tried to be angry instead of turned on by the position.

"Get the hell off me!"

"You'd be singing a different tune if we'd only just met."

Taichi was silenced, mostly because he knew that what Daisuke said was true. If they had never known each other before, Taichi would be making the most out of his current situation and getting as much as he could out of it. But because of their rocky past, he was doing everything in his power to restrain himself. It was a difficult thing to do; he was having to think of the most vile things in order to stop his excitement taking a more physical form. And their hips were little more than an inch apart, making the temptation to thrust upwards and feel that delicious friction almost too much to bear. But so far he was faring quite well, and he praised himself on his self control.

Daisuke certainly wasn't making things easy for him. He must have known the effect he was having and seemed to be revelling in it, shifting himself now and then, ever so slightly, so that Taichi couldn't forget how close he was to him. Particularly to certain more sensitive parts of his body. He tried to be strong and put all his energy into glaring at the man above him, but even this was made difficult when Daisuke leaned closer and Taichi could feel his warm breath on his neck.

"What is your problem, Yagami?" he hissed, obviously quite mad and making no attempt to hide it. "First you go and get drunk off your face, then when I bring you back here to sober up I don't get so much as a 'thank you'. In fact, I don't think you'd have treated a rat any more politely. And then you stroll in here declaring that I'm attractive, making as many excuses for it as you can as if I'm some sort of scum. What have I done to make you hate me so much? Is it because I'm a stripper? At least it's a job."

"Hey, I have a job too!" Taichi wasn't sure how to respond to most of Daisuke's outburst, but he knew he could at least contradict _that_.

"As what?"

"A waiter."

This time his reply was almost sheepish instead of indignant like his previous one had been. It wasn't like he thought being a waiter was a _bad_ job – much better than being a stripper, at any rate – but he always tended to catch himself wishing he had a job that was a little more interesting. Even so, the pay was good for a part time position.

Daisuke laughed bitterly under his breath and leaned a little closer; Taichi could feel his hair tickling his ear. "Is that why you look down on me? Because your job is so much more posh than mine?"

"I don't look down on you!" Taichi tried again to free himself but Daisuke held him down.

"You don't make sense. You don't like me and it certainly doesn't seem like you see me as an equal. If you do, you've got a bloody funny way of showing it."

Staying silent, Taichi clenched his teeth. Daisuke was wrong. He couldn't explain it, but he was. Yes, it was true that he couldn't stand the man, and it was also true that he wasn't sure he had a legitimate reason for doing so. But he knew he didn't look down on him; he _did_ see him as an equal. As another human being, just like everybody else. Not like something that might have been encountered in a sewer.

He knew it probably didn't make a lot of sense, and he could see why Daisuke didn't believe him. But he knew it was true, and it was infuriating that he had no way of expressing it. For some reason, he felt a strong urge to prove Daisuke wrong, a need to convey to him that he felt differently beneath what he appeared to believe on the outside. A growl nearly escaped his throat; no matter how hard he tried to convince him, Daisuke would never be taken in by something that made so little sense without proof.

Daisuke, however, couldn't stop himself from emitting a low snarl and he brought his head away from Taichi's neck to hover dangerously close to his face, forcing Taichi to look him directly in the eyes. Their noses were touching, bumped clumsily together; another few centimetres closer and so would their lips be. Taichi was tempted to close that extra distance but forced himself to go rigid, making any movement at all a bit hard to make.

If Daisuke took notice of Taichi tensing up, he didn't mention it. "I don't take shit from people, Yagami. You, of all people, should know that. Remember all those fights we used to have? Those were mostly me not wanting to take any shit from you. I'm not about to start taking it now. I don't care if you don't approve of my job, and I don't care if you don't like me. If you think I'm hot then fine, I won't bother to try and change your mind. But I'm not just going to sit around while you treat me like some disgusting inferior being who has no right to be alive. Especially not when you're the one who's arrogant, self-centred and a general, all-round bastard."

He did listen, and what Daisuke said did go in. It didn't wash over the top of his head as it might have done at another time; he took the words, the accusations, the insults, on board and it actually stung quite badly when he realised how true to life it was. There was nothing substantial he could use to argue any of the points Daisuke made, no matter how much it deflated his ego to admit it. He was in a position that needed defending, but he had nothing to defend himself with except the weak claim that he wasn't that bad _all_ the time. Reluctant as he was to do it, he had no choice but to accept defeat on this one; he really could be a bastard. It wasn't a very nice thing to be forced to acknowledge.

But he had never been one to take these things lying down, and he wasn't interested in staying in his defensive position any longer. And since he had nothing to say, he took control in the only way he really could right then; he leaned up before Daisuke had a chance to move and kissed him.

It was firm and highly unromantic, with neither party moving at all for what seemed an eternity. Daisuke was surprised beyond movement; he obviously hadn't expected Taichi to be so bold and give in to the temptation he had offered. And, as seemed to happen far too often, it was too late before Taichi came to his senses and realised what he was doing. He couldn't pull away because that would be an act of cowardice, but he couldn't deepen the kiss because… he was afraid of the consequences.

Then, for a shining moment, Daisuke seemed to melt completely into it. It gave Taichi the confidence to go a bit further, to try a bit harder than he would have otherwise dared to. With Daisuke's hold on him having relaxed, he found it easy to move his hand and slide it behind the other man's head. He probed with his tongue and was met with another, no less eager than his own. It felt good. He moaned quietly and vaguely noticed his grip on Daisuke's hair tighten, pulling him closer.

Unfortunately, this almost inaudible sound was all that was necessary to snap Daisuke out of whatever hazy state he had gone into. He pulled away abruptly, shoving Taichi backwards and wrenching himself violently out of his grip. Taichi, taken by surprise by this sudden action, fell back to the floor with a thud. He hadn't been prepared for Daisuke to pull away, especially after he'd joined in. And the kiss had been nice- no, more than nice; it had been amazing, even if it was short. Taichi found himself comparing the feeling to a marshmallow, and it had been quite some time since he'd experienced a kiss as nice as that. Even kisses from Yamato had eventually become more of something he chose to receive than something he needed, something that made his spine tingle with pleasantness. But Daisuke's kiss…

He _craved_ more. It no longer mattered whether he actually liked the man or not.

He was still in this foggy state of mind as Daisuke pushed himself to his feet and stood a good few paces away, clearly trying desperately to regain some of his composure. It was more than apparent to Taichi that Daisuke had been enjoying himself, just as he himself had been, and he was sure that Daisuke knew that too. Perhaps he was ashamed; he had already made it clear that he didn't see Taichi as anything more than a rude, stuck-up arsehole.

Whatever it was, Taichi didn't understand. He just knew that he had enjoyed kissing someone he didn't like. It was inconvenient, to say the least, but he wasn't going to get flustered about it.

"Why are you doing this?" Daisuke's voice was low and uncertain; nothing like the calm, composed tone he had used before. This one seemed to contain even more bitterness, if such a thing was possible, all the while being laced with a kind of threatening fear that made Taichi nervous. He wasn't sure how to respond, still feeling slightly foggy, so settled for the failsafe response.

"What?"

Daisuke misinterpreted, taking the reply as a signal that Taichi hadn't heard him. A faint relief swept across his face before he stepped back again, meeting Taichi's dazed eyes, adopting once again a cool, collected expression. He was back in control. "I said get out. I don't want you here. Take your stupid ID and go home."

He punctuated his instruction by walking swiftly to the door and pulling it open, continuing to confidently hold Taichi's gaze. But Taichi was at a loss, and sat up on his elbows; the fog in his mind was clearing and he didn't like what was emerging. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen.

But then, he had no one to blame but himself. _He_ had decided to come; _he_ had asked to come in; _he_ had told Daisuke he was hot and _he_ had been the one who started the kiss. It hadn't been the other way around. Now he had to deal with the consequences, although he had to admit that the consequences he'd had in mind were somewhat different to the ones that were taking place and involved a lot of bruises and bloodshed.

It was as if Daisuke was being too easy on him.

He hadn't moved from his space on the floor, and Daisuke raised his voice. The anger was back, there was no doubt about that. "Get out!"

So Taichi did stand, and wandered into the outside corridor; he didn't miss the uneasy look Daisuke gave him as he passed, or the way he averted his gaze for a split second afterwards. But he didn't have time to give it any thought, for no sooner had he left the apartment did the door slam shut behind him. He heard the bolt being pushed across on the inside before Daisuke's heavy tread faded away and eventually disappeared from earshot. Fog now completely gone, Taichi stood and didn't move. He was confused beyond all manner of reason, and any ideas he had previously had about anything to do with Daisuke had been effectively jumbled up in one, swift move.

_What the hell just happened?_


	6. What the Mind Doesn't Know

**Chapter title: **What the Mind Doesn't Know  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **I've upped the rating, just to be safe since I wasn't sure if I needed to for this chapter. I'm in desperate need of the rest of the plot for this. I had a few scenes planned for later but with the way I'm going at the moment I don't know how I'm going to get to them; I'm making it more difficult for myself by the chapter, haha. Also, it's not very likely that I'll get another chapter done before NaNo, but I'd be surprised if I didn't manage to update before Christmas. It may also please some people to hear that I think I might, just might, be getting back into the swing of 'Dancing Queens' soon (and about time too, I'm sure you'll agree). Anyway, enjoy this chapter, tell me what you think and I'll see you after November!

* * *

Taichi didn't try to go back again; he wasn't that stupid. He had already been fool enough to go the once, and he definitely wasn't going to be twice the fool and go back after he'd already stirred everything up enough the first time. He'd give Daisuke some time to recover. 

That wasn't to say it was easy. It had been two weeks so far, and he had had to use every trick in the book to keep himself under control; even more to stop himself thinking about it too much. For the latter purpose it hardly ever worked. Work was the only thing that kept him too busy to think about Daisuke-related issues, and even then he occasionally caught himself thinking back to the kiss and had to force himself back into the real world.

The time being about seven in the evening on one of the busiest days of the week, the restaurant was packed out and Taichi didn't have time to juggle the demands of work as well as thoughts concerning the incident a fortnight ago. He had a lot of tables to serve simultaneously, as well as alternating with his co-workers at standing by the entrance and guiding the constantly arriving customers to any empty tables. It was loud and manic, and he was having to use as much concentration as he could muster to stay focused and on task. It proved to be difficult, as on more than one occasion his mind was so full of Daisuke's marshmallow-like kiss that he ended up taking plates to the wrong tables. Once he even mistakenly thought he heard Daisuke's voice behind him, and he spun round so fast that he nearly dropped the tray of drinks he was carrying.

He didn't know what Daisuke had done to him, but he didn't like it at all. It was like he had invaded his mind, and was in the process of invading it further.

At least when he was speaking to customers he could push issues like this to the back of his thoughts and go into a pleasant yet somewhat robotic waiter mode. He had no sooner collected the empty glasses from a table that a family had just left onto a tray when he heard a male voice call, "Excuse me!"

He turned, a smile glued to his face, and saw a middle-aged man sitting with a woman beckoning him over. Expertly balancing the tray of glasses with one hand he approached their table and asked how he could be of assistance.

"Can we have refills of our wine, please?"

"Of course, just a second." Taichi bowed his head indulgently and retreated to the back with his tray to rid himself of the glasses and fetch the couple their drinks. When he returned and handed the refills to them, he spotted three delightfully familiar faces being ushered to another table – his mother, his father and his sister. He made sure to pass them as he made his way back to the table he had been clearing, and alerted them to his presence by messing up Hikari's hair on his way. Wanting to get back to them and glad for an excuse for conversation, he cleared and wiped down the table in record time. As he approached them he whipped out his tiny pad of paper for taking orders, and saw Hikari glare. She was still trying to get her hair back to its original style.

"Evening, Taichi," his father greeted him. "We haven't seen you in a while. How have you been doing in that apartment of yours?"

Taichi grinned. "I'm getting by, if that's what you mean."

"You haven't even called us," his mother interjected. "Have you been busy? Though I don't know what you could have been doing that made you so busy that you couldn't find time in two weeks for one phone call."

Obviously still feeling unimpressed by Taichi's treatment of her hair, Hikari eyed him innocently and turned to her mother. "I already told you, he's found a new man. Isn't that right, Tai?" She glanced at him as shock plastered itself over his face, and she smiled. "He was telling me all about it down the phone when I called him the day after his birthday."

"You know that's not true!" he exclaimed as quietly as he could so as not to attract peculiar looks from any of the other customers. This could end up getting very messy indeed. He could feel himself beginning to blush and tried his best to will it away. While he hadn't been prepared for his family turning up at all, he had been even less prepared for Hikari to start blurting out the details of his personal life when he hadn't even given them to her, and in the middle of his workplace no less. He was beginning to regret messing up her hair; she was usually so good at keeping things to herself.

What made it even more embarrassing was that he didn't even have a new man. One kiss with Daisuke could hardy make him count as a new man in Taichi's life, and there wasn't anybody else that it could possibly be. It was unfortunate that Hikari could read him so easily, and could pick up on the fact that he was troubled by a romantic interest, or something related to one.

His argument turned out not to be as convincing as he'd hoped, as his mother started to eye him with a suspicious curiosity, blatantly believing Hikari to be the more honest of her two children. "Oh yes, we've heard all about that. Something about you meeting that elusive tall, dark, handsome stranger."

Before Taichi had the chance to reply his father let out a loud, hearty laugh. "There's no need to be embarrassed, son! You should know by now that we accept your lifestyle."

"That's not the point!"

"So you _did_ meet someone," his mother concluded, raising her voice a notch. "I knew I was right never to believe you when you start denying something so strongly. Where did you meet him? What's his name?"

Taichi didn't miss his sister's not-so-subtle attempts to keep herself from laughing, and made a mental note to pass on to his mother how much Hikari really did enjoy it when she made 'vegetable surprise' for dinner. If he had to deal with questions about his personal life, it was only fair that Hikari should put up with the worst of the cooking more often.

But at that moment, he had more pressing matters to attend to. "You lot are impossible!" he groaned. "I told you, I haven't met anybody new. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but at least I know I'm telling the truth. Anyway, I haven't got time to stand around here chatting all day; I've got tonnes of other customers to serve, because we're busy today. So if I could take your orders for drinks…?"

Fortunately his family could understand that he was at work and didn't have time for a proper conversation about his personal life, so they told him which drinks they wanted and let him go to earn his pay. It was a blessed relief for Taichi; he could think of things he'd much rather do than go in to all the intimate details of his love life in the middle of his workplace while surrounded by people. For example, he'd rather serve all of the more obnoxious customers, as well as the ones who made ridiculously unrealistic demands of him and the ones who tried to sneak out without paying.

The rest of the evening passed without incident. The restaurant only seemed to get busier, if that were even possible, so Taichi had no time at all to stand around and catch up any more with his family. He was still serving their table so every time they ordered something he caught small snippets of conversation, but apart from that there was nothing. He didn't even see them leave, or he would have said goodbye. He saw them receive their bill and the complimentary mints, but the next time he turned around their table was empty. He would have to call them in the morning; perhaps that would prove that he wasn't too busy with a new romantic interest.

Fatigue seemed to appear from nowhere. At work he was kept busy and therefore his energy stayed at a high level, but the moment he sat down in his car he felt his eyelids beginning to droop of their own accord. To be fair, Taichi considered his day to have been a particularly tiring one, especially with the surprise visit from his family. Thinking on the spot had never been one of his strong suits, and having to do so much of it in such a short space of time was positively exhausting. And he wasn't just thinking about that day; he thought back to that two weeks ago and remembered how much he had had to say without any planning at all. That hadn't exactly gone well, so it was really no wonder that he was sleepy.

He barely pulled together the effort to change in to pyjama bottoms after stumbling through his front door. His eyes were closing on their own, and only opening a tad when he walked in to something and needed to see where he was going; after all, no matter how tired he was, brushing teeth was a necessity. He didn't want to wake up in the morning and feel like something had crawled into his mouth during the night and died.

Of course, to wake up in the morning required actually going to sleep first and Taichi couldn't seem to do it. Getting to bed was simple enough; the duvet seemed to form a cocoon around him and his head sank into the blissfully soft pillows easily. His eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open. To any onlooker he would have appeared to have already been in the middle of a peaceful sleep. But his mind was too active and refused to shut down for the night, preventing his body from getting the rest it so desperately wanted. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad were it not for the fact that almost all of his rampant thoughts were to do with Daisuke.

It wasn't surprising, really. The more Daisuke infiltrated his mind, the more difficult he found it to sleep. Taichi had discovered this through quite a few restless nights and cranky mornings. But he had thought that with such a heavy workload perhaps that night would be an exception and he would be able to catch up on some much needed sleep. But no, his family just _had_ to turn up and bring it all back to the front of his mind. He found himself wondering, as he shifted under his duvet, whether it was more than just a coincidence.

He almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it; his lack of rest was clearly affecting his ability to think straight. Of course it was only a coincidence. How could it possibly be any more than that?

But really, he'd never known a person could be so distracting without even being physically present. It was almost as if, even with his eyes closed, Taichi could see him standing beside his bed with that superior smirk on his face. His sleep-deprived imagination made him look three hundred and fifty percent more good-looking than in real life, with his tight clothes and smooth skin and perfect build, the light of the moon illuminating his face and body.

A dizzying and familiar warmth spread through Taichi's body, settling in his groin. His hand moved downwards; he didn't even realise he was doing it.

At the first touch his imagination ran riot. All of a sudden Daisuke was lying below him, and those sinfully tight clothes were nowhere to be seen. His skin lay exposed, free for Taichi's wandering hands to explore, tease and caress. The moon still shone brightly, beaming through Taichi's open curtains and giving Daisuke an eerie and pleasant glow.

His grip tightened and his next breath hitched.

The bitterness in Daisuke's gaze had disappeared, replaced by the unmistakeable expression of pure lust. His mouth was parted, his eyes lidded, and his back was arched in an effort to gain more contact. Soft grunts escaped him under Taichi's touch, and his breath began to quicken as the roaming fingers travelled lower and lower still. It was music to Taichi's ears, and he wanted to hear more.

He clenched his eyes shut tighter and moved his hand faster.

The grunts turned to moans as Taichi substituted his tongue for his fingers, and he wasn't surprised when Daisuke's hands fisted themselves in his hair. He could feel the perfectly toned body beneath him begin to writhe, desperate for more, bucking his hips and curling his toes in the sheets. Working his mouth faster, Taichi allowed his hands to continue their groping and exploring of Daisuke's body.

His breath began to come in gasps as he gripped himself tighter, quickening his pace once more.

And then the scene changed. It was still night, and Daisuke was still in his bed, still naked and still very willing, but this time he was on his knees with his face pressed in to the mattress. His hands were cuffed to the board above his head, curled so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Taichi knelt behind him, one hand running down the length of his back and the other clutching so hard to Daisuke's hip that his fingers were sure to leave bruises. He wasn't being gentle or careful; each thrust he did seemed rougher than the last, and it felt _good_. Daisuke's moans had evolved to screams, a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, and they only encouraged Taichi let go of himself completely.

It was more erotic than he could bear. With a few final twists of his hand and swipes of his thumb his back arched upwards and he was at his peak, and he had needed it so much that it was almost painful.

Now tired beyond belief, he collapsed back onto the bed and let himself relax. He wanted to fall asleep before he came down from his high and realised the implications of what he had just done.

* * *

"… Oh, that's gross." 

Those were Taichi's first words upon waking up the next morning and finding himself in what should have been a sticky mess but had dried up into gunk overnight. His sheets went straight in the wash and having a shower became first on his list of things to do that day. Not that he had many other things on that list. He had decided that he would pay his family a visit though; he hadn't forgotten how unconvinced they had been that he wasn't busy with a new partner all the time. A visit, he had concluded, would be more convincing than the phone call he had originally planned. But then, apart from work in the later half of the afternoon, he didn't have much else to be doing.

So he made himself breakfast and showered, taking his time and making sure to properly refresh his body and mind and wake himself up, and once he was dressed and his hair was dry he called his mother to tell her that he would be coming over.

"You are?" she answered, sounding slightly surprised before he heard her ask Hikari to let Meeko outside because she wanted to vacuum clean. Then she continued. "You already saw us yesterday. Has something happened?"

"No, no," he laughed. "I just didn't get to talk much to you guys yesterday, so I thought we could catch up properly today."

He didn't mention that it was also to do with proving that there was nothing going on in his love life, and she didn't seem to pick up on it. "All right. Just make sure you don't wear any muddy shoes; I'm planning to clean up today."

"I'd take my shoes off before I came in!"

"They would still leave mud inside the front door," she insisted. "It can't be that hard to find clean shoes. Then again, I suppose with you anything's possible."

Taichi sighed and wrapped up the conversation before hanging up. At least now they knew he would be coming, but it was still rather dismaying to know that even now he was an adult they still assumed he left much to be desired in the way of manners. He decided that he would prove them wrong on that account too. He even contemplated trying to tame his hair, but eventually came to the conclusion that that might be laying it on a bit thick.

No time was wasted in what remained of his getting ready, and after he slipped on the first pair of clean shoes he could find he picked up his keys and made his way to his car. It was only while he was driving, in the middle of his journey, that what he had fantasised about the previous evening finally sunk in.

He could remember it in vivid detail, every sound, every movement and every feeling, and he almost had to stop the car to pull himself together from the recollection. It had all been so clear, as if it had actually happened instead of merely being a product of his imagination. What did it mean, that he had pleasured himself while thinking of Daisuke? Was it just his mind reminding him of how attractive Daisuke was? Or could it have been something else?

He shook his head and tried to focus on driving, but now that Daisuke had claimed his mind – like he seemed to have a habit of doing – there was no way he could concentrate fully on the road in front of him.

It certainly changed things. Now, if and when he ever saw Daisuke again, all he would be able to think of was how he looked in Taichi's imagination that night, lying breathless and flushed beneath him. And then Taichi would surely start to lose his words again, and that wouldn't go down well. Just to make things worse, Daisuke would probably manage to pry out of him what was causing him to act so flustered and that could end in one of two ways, neither of which Taichi thought would have particularly nice after effects.

Although he had to admit that now that he'd seen it all in his mind, he was curious to see what it would be like if it were to become a reality. Would Daisuke's skin really all be the same evenly tanned tone, and smooth to the touch? Would the sounds that were sure to be drawn from his throat sound the same? Or were the sounds sure to be drawn at all? There was even the possibility that Daisuke wouldn't want to be on the bottom, although Taichi couldn't see himself willingly giving up dominance to him.

An encounter during which Taichi could discover the answers to these questions was, of course, only one of the two possible outcomes. The other was a violent fist fight, with teeth bared and feet kicking and each of them trying to hurt the other as much as was physically possible. It wasn't difficult for Taichi to decide which one he'd prefer.

And that in itself just made Taichi more worried. It seemed that in the space of two weeks he had gone from thinking Daisuke was one of the fittest men he'd ever seen to also wanting to sleep with him. Could that mean that maybe he didn't detest Daisuke as much as he thought he did?

He hoped not. That would be the single most inconvenient thing in the world.

He wasn't even going to _think_ about what it might mean that he'd fantasised about handcuffs as well.

He pulled up outside his family's building a while later, having had a difficult journey due to the lack of concentration, and hoped that they would be able to take his mind off things for a while and wouldn't start sticking their noses in again like they'd done the day before.

"Hurry," Hikari said as she opened the door to let him in, "in case Meeko tries to get in. Mum's trying to tidy and doesn't want him under her feet."

Taichi obeyed and slipped inside the door quickly, making sure to take off his shoes and put them somewhere where his mother was sure to see them. That way she would notice that they weren't muddy and that he was therefore not as unreliable as she had thought.

"Tai's here," he heard Hikari call before she headed in to the kitchen. He followed; the drive had made him hungry, and he hoped that he would be able to find something edible in his parents' fridge.

Before he could get there, his mother approached him with a pile of magazines and books in her arms. "Oh Taichi, it's good that you're here. Could you just go and put these on the floor by my bed?" She didn't wait for an answer, and handed the pile over to him before gathering more from the corners of the living room.

He sighed, frustrated because he was hungry, but took the pile anyway and dumped it where she had told him to. So that he didn't get caught again, he tiptoed back and managed to make it to the fridge before she found him with any more junk to move.

As he rifled through the various strange-looking contents, his mother walked past the doorway and frowned at him. "I thought you came to catch up? Instead you're just going to eat us out of house and home, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, fishing out a block of cheese that looked safe. "I wouldn't dare touch half of the weird stuff that's in here with a ten foot bargepole."

"For your information, it's not weird, it's healthy. I doubt you have anything that could be considered healthy in that tip you like to call an apartment."

"And I wouldn't want to if everything healthy looked like the stuff in here. I'm not even sure if it's really food, it looks like something's thrown up on it."

His mother shook her head. "Well don't come crying to me when after years of eating nothing but junk food your metabolism gives up and you get obese."

"Not going to happen, Mum." He closed the fridge and took a tentative bite of his cheese, and was satisfied when it didn't taste like vomit or mould. "Anyway, how have you all been since I last saw you?"

"You mean since yesterday?" his mother called from the other room she had returned to in order to continue tidying and cleaning. "We've been fine. Except that your father managed to stub his toe on the coffee table this morning before he left for work."

Hikari, who had been standing in the kitchen in silence idly sipping at a glass of grapefruit juice until now, spluttered with laughter. "You should have been there, Tai! He was cursing so much I thought he was going to start cutting the table in to pieces!"

"Yes, he did get in to a bit of a state." Their mother came back to the door with a new pile of junk in her arms and stopped to speak to Taichi. "And how have you been since yesterday? Have you seen any more of this new man of yours? You never did tell us his name."

Hikari started to laugh again, and Taichi flailed his arms in the air. "That's because he doesn't exist! Please understand that your oh-so-innocent-and-perfect daughter has lied to you! I know it's probably a lot to ask coming from me, but it's the truth!"

"Hmm…" she frowned, and glanced between her two children – Hikari trying to stifle her giggles and Taichi wearing a look of complete exasperation. "Whether you're telling the truth or not, you're protesting about it a bit much to be taken seriously."

She made her way back to her room, presumably to dump this new pile of junk from the living room. Hikari was still sputtering and trying to stop herself by drinking more of her grapefruit juice; when Taichi caught her eye he gave her a dangerous look and mouthed 'death by health food' at her. Now it would no longer be only the vegetable surprise she suffered through, but also the spinach and kidney bean casserole.

But the comments from his mother had served to bring the fantasy from the previous night to the front of his memory with freshness as if he was back in his bed again. He fought the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks at thinking of such things when his family was present, and turned around to hide his embarrassment from Hikari. If she noticed and managed to guess anything close to what he was flustered about, he was likely never to hear the end of it.

He took a bite from his block of cheese and she spoke, the remnants of laughter still evident in her voice. "You really _did_ meet someone, didn't you?"

Taichi half choked on his cheese. "What?"

"We both know you're telling the truth; you didn't tell me you met anyone at all. I made that up. But Mum's right, you're protesting way too much. You can't be completely innocent in all of this. So did you actually meet someone?"

Taichi hesitated. He knew that his sister would be able to see right through him if he lied, but was it really a good idea to tell her about Daisuke after she had blurted out his made-up personal details to their parents only yesterday?

His hesitation encouraged her to probe further. "Oh, come on Tai; you can tell _me_. Where did you meet him? What's his name? Have you really been busy with him for the last two weeks, and that's what's been stopping you from calling us? Please, I promise I won't tell Mum and Dad!"

He gave a defeated sigh; she would probably only find out in time anyway, so he might as well tell her. "Well… I kind of met someone."

"Kind of?"

"Yeah, kind of. It's complicated. But I haven't seen him since two weeks ago, I've just been thinking about him a lot."

"That's so sweet!" Hikari clasped her hands together under her chin, and Taichi was sure that she wouldn't be saying that if she knew who the mystery man was. But he opted to keep that particular detail, as well as last night's fantasy, to himself. "It's like those things you see in movies, where all looks hopeless at first and then everything ends happily. When are you going to call him?"

"I wasn't going to call him," he shrugged. "I was just going to let it go."

She seemed stunned. "You can't do that!"

"Why not?" Taichi eyed his sister curiously; he could almost see the cogs turning in her head. "Do you think I _should_ call him? Even if I wanted to, I don't have his number."

"It'll be in the phone book somewhere," she waved her hand dismissively. "You _have_ to call him. If you can't stop thinking about him, how do you know that you haven't had the same effect on him? He could be the one for you, Tai! Don't let him get away!"

As she drifted further and further into the world of chick-flick clichés, Taichi pondered the idea of calling Daisuke. It wouldn't be anywhere near as dangerous as going to see him in person, that was for sure, and he might have more luck keeping his speech under control. And who knew; as Hikari suggested, some good might come of it. She could often be something of a prophet in matters like these, as Taichi knew from experience.

If he played his cards right, he might even get to see his fantasy play out in real life.

…

Yes, he would definitely call Daisuke.


	7. A Stop Sign on a Rollercoaster

**Chapter title: **A Stop Sign on a Rollercoaster  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **Let me start by saying how sorry I am that this is the first update I've made in such a long time. There's no excuse for it. But I will say that I've been rather blocked with _everything_, and these days I find it difficult to sit still for too long. I've discovered a love for workout DVDs which is rapidly turning into an addiction, so now I'm spending all my free time exercising instead of writing. I'm hardly on the internet at all anymore, actually. But, as I said, there's no excuse, especially since I said that I'd probably have an update on this fic by Christmas. Anyway, I'm updating now, and I promise that I'm not abandoning any of my fics ever. It's all just very slow progress at the moment, and I'm hoping that things will speed up again soon. I can't remember if there's anything else I need to say, so I hope you all enjoy this update.

* * *

The phone rang once, twice, three times before Taichi lost his nerve and put the phone back on the receiver. So much for third time lucky; he really was a coward. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before allowing his hand to hover over the phone for the fourth time. Perhaps he would manage it this time. After all, it wasn't exactly a difficult thing to do. Pick up the phone, dial the number, start with some easy banter and let the conversation flow from there, ending on an invitation out for a drink. When put like that it seemed like the easiest thing in the world, and he had done it countless times before. Unfortunately, he had never done it with Daisuke before, and somehow that made the entire situation far scarier than it ought to have been. He was even beginning to consider calling his sister instead and asking her to come over, if only for support. She was sure to give him the kick up the backside he needed to actually stay on the phone long enough for Daisuke to pick up, but he was reluctant. As much as he adored Hikari, it was kind of pitiful that he was feeling the need to seek her help with a potential date. He should have been able to do something like this himself, and he knew he was perfectly capable; he just needed to get the nerve first. 

Taking another deep breath, he let his hand drop back to his side and wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He had thought about having a bit of alcohol to calm himself, but the idea had gone almost as quickly as it had come. Alcohol at a time like this would have been the worst idea in the world, considering his complete and utter inability to hold his drink. The last thing he needed to do was get carried away and _then_ call Daisuke; a lethal combination of off his face and completely fearless. That was bad enough when he was on his own, never mind when he was having a conversation with someone.

The water, surprisingly, helped a little, which was more than he had been expecting it to do. He set his glass sown firmly on the counter and with a new determination went back to the phone, reaching out and hesitation for the briefest of moments. However, this short pause was all the time needed for the phone to start ringing, succeeding in startling Taichi out of his skin and causing him to jump nearly three feet in the air. He was glad he hadn't been girly enough to let out a yelp of surprise, even though no one would have been around to see him or to hear it; at least he knew the last few strands of his dignity were still intact.

When he picked up the phone and heard his sister's voice on the other end of it, he didn't know why he was surprised because he really shouldn't have been. But he was.

"Have you called him yet? How did it go?"

Taichi resisted the urge to smack himself in the face with the palm of his hand. "I was just about to call him, you silly girl. How am I supposed to call him if I'm on the phone to you, with you asking me about something that I was just about to do but now can't because I need the phone to do it?"

"Say no more," she said, and Taichi could picture her waving her hand in the air. His strange tangents never seemed to have any effect on her. Perhaps living with him for so many years had made her immune to them. "I'll give you fifteen minutes, and then I'll call you back to see how it went. Make sure you actually call him."

He heard the dial tone in his ear before he could go into another rant about how he _would_ call him if he wasn't already on the phone to her and how he _could_ call him if she would get off the phone. Then he found himself longing for her to ring back, if only to delay the inevitable. He knew she wouldn't, so he retreated to the kitchen instead, telling himself that he needed another glass of water. He was stalling, and he knew it, but while calling Daisuke had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, the prospect was now no more appealing than having his testicles removed very slowly with a rusty butter knife.

A trip to the bathroom and another two glasses of water later, he held the phone to his ear again. This part of the process was easy; he hadn't dialled anything yet so he didn't have to worry about suddenly hearing Daisuke's voice on the other end of the line. He took a deep breath before shaking himself in an effort to stop feeling so damn nervous. He wasn't some kind of girl, and there was no reason to be anxious. It was a stupid phone call, nothing more and nothing less. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, and the worst that could happen was Daisuke hanging up on him. Besides, his sister would be calling back soon expecting answers, and he would never hear the end of it if he had to confess that he was too _scared_ to make the call. No, that wasn't an option.

And before he could allow himself time to think once again through the pros and cons of making this call, his fingers punched in the number under Daisuke's name in the phone book and he waited, phone poised by his ear. He felt a little better when he noticed that his hands weren't shaking quite as much as he thought they were.

It took a considerable amount of willpower not to just slam the phone back down again before there was an answer, and if Taichi was honest it was making him want to scream. One ring after another… it was as if Daisuke somehow knew of his inner turmoil and was taking his time answering the phone on purpose. Or perhaps he had just become sick of someone ringing and hanging up before he could answer, and so just wasn't going to bother anymore.

He blew out an angry breath between his teeth, and was about to give up altogether when a click on the other end and a scratchy voice in his ear told him that the phone had been answered.

"Hello?"

Taichi swallowed. Daisuke sounded thoroughly pissed off, and there was no doubt in Taichi's mind that it was entirely his fault even though he hadn't said anything yet. He didn't need to. Anyone would have been annoyed if someone had been calling them repeatedly and hanging up before they could answer. How did he manage to make such a mess of things before he'd even started talking? It was beyond him.

"Uh… hey," Taichi said, sounding every bit as confident as he felt. "It's Taichi, in case you couldn't tell by my voice."

He wondered if this was how it would feel to sign his own death warrant, and Daisuke let out a low, almost inaudible growl. "I swear to God, if it's you who's been ringing me-"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink some time." Taichi had thought it best not to let Daisuke threaten him, and cutting him off without beating around the bush about why he was calling in the first place seemed like the best course of action. It killed two birds with one stone. "You know, to catch up and shit."

Why he thought it necessary to add _that_ he didn't know, but at least Daisuke's response wasn't as bad as it could have been. "A _drink_? What is this, all of a sudden? First you turn up at my apartment – uninvited, I hasten to add – and now… are you stalking me, or something?"

Taichi allowed himself a strained laugh, despite the seriousness in Daisuke's tone, trying not to think about how bizarre his behaviour must seem. "I don't hear you saying no. Look, I… please, just come for a drink with me. I'll explain everything properly then."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Taichi tried to keep his breathing under control and prevent himself from becoming too anxious. Christ, when did he turn into such a girl? He'd never had this problem before.

_Circumstances are different,_ his mind told him in that irritating voice he always hated because he knew he only heard it when what he was about to hear was the unadulterated truth. _You're used to people liking you straight off the bat. You've never had to worry about being turned down before. But he's different; he can't stand you. You're going to have to work for what you want this time._

"All right. Your treat."

Daisuke's answer was an unexpected one and it broke Taichi's train of thought, something for which he was grateful. He hadn't liked the way his brain had been going with that thread.

"But," Daisuke continued, "only on the condition that you leave me the hell alone afterwards. I don't know how much more of you I can cope with."

"Yes, anything you want." Taichi was cringing before the words had finished leaving his mouth. Could he possibly sound any more desperate? He was tempted to sew his mouth shut just so he wouldn't have to find out.

"I might just take you up on that at some point. Anyway, just give me a place and a time. Unless you're going to go the whole hog and pick me up?"

Taichi tried to laugh away the sarcasm. He was now too uncomfortable to be… well, comfortable, and rattled off a random time and a random bar in an effort to wrap up the awkward conversation quickly. Daisuke was only too keen to end the call, and Taichi heard the dial tone before he had finished saying goodbye. He wasn't sure whether he was pleased about that or not. He supposed he should have been indignant, but all Daisuke had really done was do him a favour by hanging up before he could make an even bigger idiot out of himself.

He ran a hand through his hair as he put his own phone back down, giving himself a moment to recover. He had never known a single phone call could be so distressing; somewhere along the line his breathing had stopped being regular, and his palms had become damp with sweat. For the love of God, it was only Daisuke. Daisuke was nothing to get worked up over. Granted, he had certainly _grown up_, at least where looks were concerned, but still…

_You're pathetic._

Taichi almost let out an annoyed hiss through his teeth, but held himself back. To get irritated at himself because of things he was thinking would be a completely new level of stupidity for him, and he would only end up proving himself right in the process.

He really was rather pathetic.

No sooner had he scrubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes and turned to head back to the kitchen did the phone ring again, and he eyed it with a defeated exasperation. Couldn't Hikari wait a few minutes and let him catch his breath? He even considered ignoring it for a second, but the more sensible part of his brain told him that it would probably be a good idea to get all the calls out of the way as quickly as possible. Screw lightening the load; it was like ripping off a plaster. Better to do it quickly than slowly.

So he picked up the phone, albeit reluctantly, and prepared himself for the worst.

And it was just as well he had. Hikari was bursting with questions – how did it go? What did he say? Did he seem eager? Where were they going? Were they going to be out all night? Would Taichi be bringing him back to his apartment? Was there going to be any sexy time? Did he look like he would be good in bed?

Taichi, for one, thought that most of these questions were completely irrelevant; not to mention inappropriate, especially when it was his _sister_ asking them. He couldn't quite see how it was any of her business what they would be doing after the drinks, although he doubted they would be doing anything. Even so, she was sure to find out about it sooner or later afterwards, by whatever means she thought necessary. She really didn't need any details yet.

He had a hard time trying to convince _her_ of that, though; she refused to be content with being contacted after the action was all over, and insisted upon Taichi making all sorts of ridiculous predictions about both his date and about Daisuke himself. Eventually, he found himself needing to make a few guesses just to get her off his back. It was impossible to say nothing about it, and when he'd tried to just hang up on her she had called back over and over until he feared he would go mad if he heard the phone ring one more time.

It took him almost half an hour to regret getting rid of her; he had no one to help him to prepare.

* * *

Taichi's pre-date panic was worse than usual. He shampooed his hair twice while he was showering (just in case it didn't work well enough the first time) and changed his clothes at least five times before opting for his original outfit. Whereas he usually didn't care what his hair was doing – it could be sprouting limbs of its own for all he cared – this time he stood in front of his bathroom mirror for what seemed like forever while he attempted to tame his hair into enough of an actual style to look good but not enough for the effort to actually show. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent so long on his hair; even on previous dates, his hair had always been the task that took up the smallest amount of his time. 

When he had finally managed to satisfy himself with his hair and come to the conclusion that no, no matter how desperate he was, make-up was for women, he traded in his khakis for a pair of black jeans and removed his trainers in favour of boots. He kept his white button down shirt on though. Yes, he was panicky and many moments of indecision were completely understandable as far as he was concerned, but he wasn't blind and he knew full well that this particular shirt did good things for him. If he hadn't had to leave the apartment right then if he wanted to be on time, he would have also started to worry about whether he looked too formal for a casual drink with someone who was making it abundantly clear that Taichi's company was something he didn't really want.

The drive calmed him considerably, something for which Taichi thanked his lucky stars. It simply wouldn't do to arrive complete with jitters and lacking the ability to form a coherent sentence. Daisuke would only have more reason to want rid of him as soon as possible, and he needed as much time as he could get to explain himself. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say; he was just going to open his mouth and hope that something good would come out. It hadn't been the most reliable method of getting things done in the past, but it was by far the easiest, at least until he had to deal with the consequences of whatever he happened to say.

He shook his head as he parked in a space and stepped out of his car. Now was not the time to be thinking about such things.

The bar wasn't empty, but it was by no means crowded. A few people had scattered themselves throughout the whole establishment, some with friends or lovers and others alone nursing a drink. The noise level was pleasant, the chatter of the customers a constant hum over the quietened rock music in the background, and it didn't take Taichi long to spot Daisuke sitting at the far end of the bar with a half empty glass in front of him.

He hurried over, stealing a glance at the clock and hoping that Daisuke hadn't been waiting too long. It wasn't like he was late, but each minute that the man spent sitting there on his own could mean a disaster for Taichi. He was pretty sure that Daisuke would pounce on any excuse to get him out of his life.

He settled onto the empty stool next to Daisuke without saying a word, not missing the quizzical glance his 'date' sent in his direction before taking another sip of the clear beverage in his glass. Taichi considered gesturing for the bartender but decided against it; however much he felt like getting some alcohol into his system to ease the nerves that seemed to have returned since he got out of his car, he needed maximum control over himself. He couldn't afford to make mistakes that could be easily avoided.

But Daisuke was drinking, and after a few long moments of simply sitting and staring ahead he turned to raise an eyebrow at the glass Daisuke's fingers were curled around. Daisuke snorted in response to the look and took another sip. "It's only lemonade. Losing my job, albeit temporarily, is enough; I'm not about to lose my license as well. Nothing to get concerned about."

"I'm not concerned." The reply came as automatically as shielding himself from a blow, and Taichi shifted in his seat, moving his gaze from the drink to stare blankly ahead again. "Thanks for coming."

Daisuke peered over at him in a mixture of impatience and curiosity. "You want to tell me what this is all about? Because I'm on the verge of saying 'fuck it' and going home. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit and games."

Games. Taichi twiddled his thumbs nervously on the bar and realised, with what he though to be an appropriate amount of guilt, that he _had _been messing Daisuke around a bit. Which was _wonderful_; it meant that there was something else to add to the fast-growing list of things he needed to make amends for. He knew that the right thing to do would be to apologise, but he should have known that his mouth had other ideas. "It's not like you're making this easy. You're as unpredictable as a girl trying to have a period."

His pride wouldn't allow him to take this particular comment back, even as he saw Daisuke's jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. "This is the second time you've insulted me as soon as you've seen me. Is that how you greet everyone, or am I the only lucky one?"

"I… you know that wasn't how I meant it. Just hear me out."

Now Daisuke turned fully on his stool so that his entire body was facing Taichi, and he placed his glass firmly down on the bar. "Give me one reason why I should. And make it a good one."

"I can give you more than one," Taichi countered, looking at him without turning his head. "For starters, you actually made the effort to come here and meet me, so you might as well listen. Secondly, I'm going to go crazy if I don't get all this out of my system; I can't cope. And thirdly, if you leave now… well, you can forget any possibility of getting rid of me. I'm not going anywhere until all this is cleared up and I can sleep at night again."

Daisuke didn't reply, instead folding his arms and leaning sideways against the bar. Taichi took this as his cue to continue and cleared his throat, getting right down to business.

"About what happened the other day…" Taichi paused, gathering his wits and paying no attention to the fact that Daisuke's gaze darkened at the mention of that day, "I know it must have seemed like I was fucking around, but I wasn't. Honest to God, I wasn't. I meant it when I said you were hot; hell, the only reason I'm not properly looking at you now is because I think I might lose my composure if I do."

This earned him a disbelieving look, which Taichi chose to ignore, but Daisuke still didn't say a word.

"And for some reason," he continued, "I can't get you out of my mind. But that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is just _you_, in general. First you hate me, then you deny it, and now you're acting like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. It's just… it'd be nice to know where I stand, that's all, because you're confusing the hell out of me."

Daisuke kept his expression carefully neutral as he took another sip of lemonade. "You're being purposefully ambiguous. What, exactly, are you trying to say?"

"I don't know! That's the problem!" Taichi whined, leaning forward on his elbows and raking his hands through his hair, successfully destroying the style he'd spent nearly an hour trying to create. "You're not giving me a chance to come to any conclusions. As soon as I think I've worked it out, you go and say something or do something and I end up having to start from scratch."

He knew it was probably a bad idea to be taking his frustrations out on Daisuke, especially at such a crucial time, but it was far easier if he could blame someone else for his confusion. Daisuke was still keeping his features under control, meaning Taichi had no idea of how his words were affecting him. Or, indeed, if they were affecting him at all.

"All right," Daisuke nodded slowly, his fingers playing idly with his glass, "what I've managed to gather so far from your babbling is this: you think I'm hot and it bothers you. You hate me, and that bothers you too. It bothers you when you think I hate you in return, but it also bothers you when you don't. In all, you're just easily bothered."

Taichi groaned. "You're oversimplifying this, and you know it. You're infuriating." He was about to say more, but he cut himself off. Pieces were beginning to slot themselves into place as he sat beside Daisuke in that bar, his own words causing things to make more sense for him than his hours of thinking had done. One horrifying realisation came after another, and when he finally turned to face Daisuke with wide eyes, the younger man was still staring at him with the same bored kind of interest. Taichi gulped. "What if…"

He, for once, didn't trust his mouth enough to let it run free, and he took so long to think his next words through that Daisuke had to give him an overly weary gesture to continue. "What if…" he paused again, though not for as long, letting his tongue dart out to wet his suddenly dry lips and good God did he wish he had some alcohol in his system. "What if, hypothetically… there was more to it than just a physical attraction? What if I actually really liked you?"

This seemed to take Daisuke by surprise. His eyes widened almost unnoticeably and his lips parted, and for a brief moment he looked lost, as if he had no idea how to react. But Taichi was watching him carefully, and this sped up his reaction time. His eyes darkened once more and he let out a small, humourless laugh. "You bastard."

Taichi didn't have time to be surprised by the response; Daisuke downed the last of his lemonade and rose to his feet. Clearly, he was done, and Taichi found that after his new discovery he didn't have the strength to protest. Daisuke clapped him on the back as he passed him. "If you actually really liked me," he said, repeating Taichi's words, "I'd say that's great. Fantastic, even. Why don't you come over sometime and you can fuck me until you go into a coma? We'll have the time of our lives. Until then, I hope never to hear from you. I'm finished here."

Despite the sharp, sarcastic edge to Daisuke voice, Taichi thought as he watched him walk out of the bar, he may well have to take him up on that coma thing.


End file.
